Tattered Pages
by Twilight-to-Nightfall
Summary: Aubrey Davis is a seventeen-year-old high school student and a bookworm. One day, she decides to look for a book to read, but what if she stumbles upon an old diary from 19th century London? Especially one that belonged to a young nobleman?
1. The Tattered Diary

Tattered Pages

A Godchild Fanfiction

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(A/N: Hi, everybody. Twilight-to-Nightfall here. As you can see, I have a new fanfiction up, which is going to be my very first Godchild fanfic. Ever. I'm posting the first chapter up as a test subject, meaning that I may or may not continue writing this story if I lack at least one review. If, however, I gain a review or more from this story, then I shall continue writing in it. For now, it is merely a waiting game. Again, I am not asking for reviews. I'm not that kind of person. This story is a test subject. If people like it, then I shall continue it. If not, then I will remove it in matters time. I want people to actually _like_ my stories so that I would have reasons to continue them. Well, I suppose I should get on with the story.) 

Disclaimer: I do not own Godchild except for my own characters. Godchild belongs to the great Kaori Yuki. If I _did_ own it, then I'll be happy.

Also, spoilers are contained throughout the fanfiction for those of you who have just started reading Godchild.

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Chapter 1

The Tattered Diary

"Hey, Aubrey! _Aubrey_! Where're you going? The cafeteria is _that_ way!"

The shrill voice from my friend Megan caused my walking to come to a sudden halt. I let out a heavy sigh as I shook my head lightly, feeling my chestnut brown hair leave gentle butterfly kisses along my jaw line. I raised my hand over to the back of my head and stroked the remains of my once long flowing hair before I chopped it all off to my mid neck, only to allow the rest of my hair to have some length, and fall at an angle at either side of my face. I then turned my body to allow my cerulean blue eyes to lock in a gaze at the bright-eyed, petite blonde that stood beside the lengthy staircase that lead to the first floor of the school.

I cocked my head to the side in a comical sort of manner as I chuckled a bit at her question. "Where do you _think_ I'm going, Meg?" I quizzed playfully.

My blonde friend was obviously not amused with my playfulness, for she let out a loud groan in pure aggravation as she rolled her eyes in the same, yet also, mocking sort of manner. "Honestly, Aubrey, how many times have you _actually_ gone to lunch, huh? Maggie is starting to suspect that you're suffering from anorexia when I _know_ that isn't the case. Can you just...I dunno, _not_ go to the library for _once_?"

I shook my head. "Nope," I grinned. "Let Maggie think whatever she wants, but I want to go to the library."

"...You are definitely the number one oddball of the Davis family, aren't you?"

"I'd be lying if I said otherwise. I take that as a compliment."

Megan let out a heavy sigh once again, a sign showing that she was through with trying to convince me to have lunch with her. _Good_. "Well, okay, then. I guess I'll see you later then. Bye, Aubrey." After her short and brief farewell, Megan immediately hurried her way downstairs to the first floor.

Without bothering to turn back, I shrugged to myself as I walked down the narrow hallway until I found the door that led to what would be my second home: the library. As expected, I spotted about ten to fifteen students dispersed throughout the entire room. Some were on the computers, whether they were doing some work for school or just goofing off on other websites, and some were sitting in the twelve-odd tables, in a diversity of shapes of circles and diamonds. Those students were either doing some homework that was probably due the next period, or just chatting with their friends.

I was greeted by the librarian as usual as I made my way towards the back of the library in attempts to search for something interesting to read. Reading was one of my biggest passions. No matter what genre it was, or whether or not it was fiction or nonfiction, I always seemed to be so...captivated by the elaborate story telling written by a talented man or woman. When reading a story...it was like opening a door to a different and exciting world, a world filled with magic, excitement, romance, the works.

I guess you can say I was a bit of a bookworm. A seventeen-year-old bookworm.

I rummaged through the tall shelves that were stacked with the wondrous masterpieces called novels. I pushed aside some various books I had read, from all seven Harry Potter books to various Mother Goose tales and fables. There were plenty more where that came from. There were Memoirs of a Geisha, Of Mice and Men, and an all-time classic, Alice in Wonderland. I had read them all, some even more than once. There were plenty more, too.

Groaning over the fact that I was unable to find something I haven't already read, I journeyed further back in the library, where I found a lonely bookshelf that contained much older titles, some even older than my grandparents. The librarian usually had that area off-limits to the student public, only because since the books were so old, she feared that one would break them. Intrigued, I motioned my way towards the shelf and looked around, gingerly obtaining a title, skimming through it, and then placing it back to its original spot.

"Odd," I finally started, placing another book back in the shelf. "I can't seem to find anything interesting for me to read...Hm..." Being persistent, I searched some more, and even went so far as to go on all fours and looked. During my search, I spotted the corner of a book peeking from beneath the shelf. Curious, I grabbed it and pulled it out. Resting in my hand was a small, hard covered book. There was no title printed on the cover; it was black like the darkest night, though the book itself was pretty tattered.

"Huh..." I uttered. "I've never seen _this_ one before. And it doesn't even have a title! I don't think I have ever seen anything _like_ it before." Cautiously, I opened the little book and set my gaze at the very first page. The material of the page was rough, and was tinted slightly vanilla, unlike the pages of the books read today. The words that made up the pages were written in ink, like someone had used a quill pen. The penmanship was so...neat, yet since it was so old, some of the words slightly bled with the other words.

_July 11th, 1887_

"..."

"Wh-_what_?" I stuttered upon reading the heading. "1887?! This was written more than one hundred years ago?!" Realizing how loud I was shouting, I covered my mouth rapidly as I blushed in embarrassment. To my luck, everyone in the library still went about their chatting and researching and studying. I let out a sigh in relief as I peered back to the page. "This must've been someone's diary..." I muttered quietly as I started to read from the very start of the entry.

_July 11th, 1887_

_Hello. This is probably the first time I've ever kept a diary. I figured it'd be a good idea to do so instead of just having Riff listen to what I have to say all the time. I mean, I did not mind at all. It's just that I wanted to use another source to do so. I have heard that it was good to keep a diary..like it was some way to relieve stress. I'm certainly not stressed as of now...but it'll come. I'm certain of it. I'm probably not going to write much..since I'm a bit busy today and that there really isn't anything worth writing about. I just wanted to start off with writing this instead of just starting off with an event..but nowadays, strange things do tend to happen in London. Well, with that said, I must get going. Until next time._

_By the way, my name is Cain. Cain Hargreaves._

Upon reading that final note, I closed the diary and stared intently at the tattered cover. "Cain Hargreaves, huh...?" I muttered softly. "He seems so intriguing. I want to read more, but..." I glanced over to the librarian, who was sitting at the front desk chatting with some of the teachers. I pulled my gaze from the librarian and back towards the diary. "I-I'm sure she wouldn't mind, right?" I stammered, standing up and tucking the diary in my jacket. I knew it was wrong to take something that clearly did not belong to me. I just couldn't help but be curious.

But then again, I also had a conscience.

As the teachers dispersed from the front desk, I hurriedly made my way towards it, finding the librarian on her own personal computer. "Um..excuse me, ma'am," I timidly started.

The librarian halted her typing as she turned her seat around to face me. "Oh, hello, Aubrey, what do you need, hon?" she smiled. Since I was in the library almost every day, the librarian herself had a chance to get familiar with me, thus being the reason why she greeted me in such a informal manner.

"Yes, um..." I pulled the diary from my jacket and placed it gently on the desk. "I found this diary underneath the bookshelf in the back room. Do you think I can borrow it for a couple of days? I'll bring it back, I promise."

The librarian lifted the diary from the desk and started to skim through it in curiosity. "Huh? That's strange. I don't remember ever _getting_ this diary. It must've accidentally gotten mixed up along with the other books we received internationally." She skimmed through it again. "It's quite an old diary. Nineteenth century to be exact. And in London?"

"Uh, huh. So, uh, if you don't mind, can I borrow--?"

"It's yours. Here," she interrupted, handing me the diary once again. "This is the first time I have ever seen this, so it isn't worth missing."

"B-but--!"

"Aubrey, it's okay, really. Just take it and enjoy."

I was overwhelmed with complete joy. I had finally found something that sparked my interest, and this time, I get to keep it instead of borrowing it like I usual. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" I thanked, hugging the diary to my chest and hurrying my way out of the library towards my next class. It didn't take long before the bell rang, a sign to assemble every student to go to their next class. Along my walk, I found Megan and my other friends catching up to me. Immediately, they were asking me questions.

"Aubrey! Why didn't you come to lunch?!"

"Are you going on a crash diet?!"

"Why do you _always_ skip lunch to go to the library?"

"Hey, is that a new book you've got? What is it?"

I didn't bother answering many of the questions, so I decided to just answer the final question. I grinned cheekily. "It's a secret," I giggled, now pacing my way towards class, leaving my friends baffled and confused. As soon as I was away from my friends, I pulled the diary from my chest and gazed at it once again. _Cain, huh?_ I thought. _Well, Cain, you have just sparked my interest. Sorry, pal. Time to invade what your life was like..._

**(A/N: Well, that's the end of chapter one. As for the date, 1887, that was just a random date I pulled out. I don't think the manga specified the actual date other than the 19th century. Like I said before, this is a test subject. If it turns out that people actually like it so far, I shall continue writing more in it. It'll be great if people like it, since it's my first attempt to write a Godchild fanfiction, but then again, it'll be a pain to work on _four_ stories. But that's alright. One story I'm working on will be done in no time. As for the other two, I am unsure. Well, I hope this story hasn't been too, too bad so far. Well, hope you guys enjoy it.)**

**-Twilight-to-Nightfall**


	2. Repetitive Days and the Second Page

Chapter 2

Repetitive Days and the Second Page

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(A/N: Hello. Since there are people who actually _liked_ this story, I've decided to update it! I have to say, I'm a bit surprised at that. I didn't think anyone would like it. Well, then, with that said, I hope you all liked this chapter, and I hope I don't disappoint anyone. By the way, I changed the title of the story to _Tattered Pages_. I just thought _Turning the Pages of Time_ sounded kind of...corny. I'm not sure if _Tattered Pages_ sounds any better, though. I guess all I can say is, oh, well. I guess it'll be alright for the time being.) 

_**For those of you who reviewed chapter 1...**_

**Jamra**: You are my first reviewer! And thank you! It makes me so happy that you like it! Here's your update!

**icydragon14**: Ha, ha, yup! New story! Woot!

**Rikku In WonderLand**: Oh, thanks! And yes, I shall write more!

**Mero**: When I started reading your review, the first thing I thought was "Damn. I got flamed.". But then I read on and discovered that you were just giving me some advice. I thank you for that. I know _exactly_ where you were going with it. That's the sort of thing I'm actually trying to avoid when writing this story to tell you the truth. Then again, writing a Godchild fanfiction isn't so easy for me, since this is my first attempt to make one. I know. I shouldn't use that as an excuse. But anyways, thanks for the advice and I'll try my hardest to avoid that sort of route. I really appreciated it.

**Sorryll: **Oh, thank you! I'll be more than happy to write more in it. -smiles- Ouch, twelve stories? Eep! -gape-

**PrincessVictoriaAnnMacbeth: **Thank you very much! Here's your update -smiles-

**BlueFox of the Moon: **Oh, thank you! And here's your update!

**tanya: **Thanks! And as for Aubrey, you'll soon find out!

**Riki-Tiki-Tabby: **Oh, thank you! And I will continue this story since it's been decided that people actually like it to my surprise. I might stop writing in one of my stories, though, so I might only have to deal with three. Well, enjoy this update!

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"Oh! I thought I'd _never_ reach home!" I groaned in relief as soon as I reached to the driveway of my house. School had finally come to a close for the day, and unlike most of the other students who had some sort of transportation, I had to walk all the way home in the bitter cold in late autumn. Oh, the joys of lacking a driver's license. Because I had the tendency to be quite forgetful, I had forgotten to bring a heavier jacket, therefore leaving me to walk in lightweight clothing. Although the amount of time that took me to get from school to my house was a simple fifteen-minute walk, it really _did_ feel like an eternity, like time never even existed to begin with. 

...Sounds poetic, doesn't it?

With one hand holding the old diary close to my side, I used my other hand, numbed from the coldness, to reach down into my pocket to obtain my house key. I quickly went up the stairs and pulled my key from its hiding place. When I placed it in the keyhole, I glanced over to my left, only the come to the realization that my father's car was sitting in the driveway the whole time.

I felt my eyebrow twitch a little at this. "Oh..." I grumbled under my breath, a puff of visible air being released from my mouth. "Dad took the day off today...I should've called him..." Finally, I turned the key and unlocked my front door.

"Huh? Oh, hey, Aubrey. Why didn't you call? I could've picked you up, you know." That response came from my father, who was sitting on the leather sofa that stood in front of our rather large television set in our living room. He was a largely built middle-aged man, age forty-five. His brown hair that I had inherited had ashen over the years, making the grays quite noticeable. His eyes, the color of lush grass found in clear open fields, kept his gaze on the television screen.

I was among the many adolescents in today's society with divorced parents. It was about a good four or five years ago when my parents decided to split. They just sort of...fell out of love with each other. My flaxen-haired mother, with eyes like the calm, yet sometimes fury waters of the ocean, re-married another divorced citizen with children shortly after. Over the years, she had paid more attention to her new life and family, and so little to her first-born child. That would be me. That is why I stayed with my father, who had remained single since the divorce. Plus, I had a better relationship with him than my mother..._far_ better.

I fully stepped into the house and shut the door behind me. "Yeah, I forgot that you were home..." I told him, throwing my backpack on the ground beside the front door. Suddenly, the sounds of rough paws pounding on tiled floors and shrill barks filled the entire household. I smirked at this. "Ah, methinks I hear your lovely dog, Priest."

Just then, a rather large German Shepherd, with fur as dark as a silhouette, came running its way into the room, practically tackling me with affectionate licks on my cheeks and hands. His tail wagged furiously. This beautiful dog, dubbed with the name Priest, had been a part of this family for about seven years. He belonged to my father. That was determined because my father seemed to be the only one who really spoiled Priest to no end, and the dog himself was completely devoted to my father.

"O-okay, Priest, stop it," I spat out in between giggles in attempts to protect the diary from Priest's joyful attacks.

My father took notice of the old, tattered diary in my hand. "Got yourself a new book to read, Aubrey?" he questioned me, not taking his eyes off it.

"Oh! Yeah," I replied, holding it up so that my father would take a better look at it.

He gave it a look. "Looks kinda old, don't you think?" he managed to utter.

"Well, it _was_ someone's diary in the 19th century," I told him in a matter of fact. "By the way, Dad, my stuff's already packed. What day did you say we were going to London?"

"Forgotten already, huh? This Saturday, so in five days."

"Oh, alright." With that already said, I climbed up the stairs that led to the second floor, where two bedrooms and a small bathroom stood. I opened the door to my bedroom. It was a small area that only had room for a single small bed, two miniature dressers, one with a television set sitting on it, and a rather large closet that stood to the right of one of the dressers. The room was spotless, and sitting at the very center of the room was a black suitcase. I also came to notice that Luna, my little dark-furred feline, was lying on top of my suitcase, practically camouflaging herself with it.

It wasn't until about a month or two ago when I came to realize that my father and I were going to London for two weeks. He, however, had known about it for about six months, half a year. One of my dad's good friends, a fellow employee at his work and pure British, had invited the two of us to visit London with him. I was excited to go. I had never been out of the country before. This experience was going to open a whole new world of excitement for me, much like a new book for me to read.

Speaking of reading...

"Hey, Luna," I called, slipping my sneakers off and proceeded to my bed, where I sat cross-legged on the dead center of it. My cat raised her head upward, twitching her ears a bit, as she leapt from my suitcase to my bed. I grabbed the diary and held it towards Luna. "You see this?" I continued. "I found this baby at the library. It's a diary that belonged to some guy named Cain back in 19th century London. Seems interesting, no?"

Luna slowly approached the diary, sniffing it a little as her ears twitched. With her tiny paw, she lightly tapped it a little, checking to see if the object had any life in it. Giggling slightly, I ran my hand over her arched back, feeling the silkiness of her fur lightly caressing my palm and fingertips. "Now, then," I started again, opening up the diary and turning the page, "let's see what we've got here..."

The second page of the little book was in about the same condition as the first page, rough material and the ink from the letters slightly bleeding with other words. Although the condition was a bit poor, I was still able to decipher the entry. "Listen to this, Luna," I told my cat as I started reading aloud.

_August 3rd, 1887_

_My beloved cousin Suzette. Was it even worth it? Was that man even worth all of that trouble to fake your death? To actually die, taking him to oblivion with you?_

I paused my reading. What a depressing intro. It was morbid, yet so...mysterious. My curiosity had been sparked yet again. I read on.

_You had your hopes that he would come and rescue you after the burial. That clearly wasn't the case since he abandoned you and planned to marry another woman just days after. You were buried alive in that dark and cold casket, waiting for your lover to come. He never did. I had expected that you would succumb to insanity. You even clawed your way out of your own grave. In the end, not only have you killed your lover, but you also died in the process. You even went so far as to stealing one of my poisons while I was away..._

"My god," I uttered in complete and total disbelief. "Did that _really_ happen? That's something one would see in a movie or read in a story. This cousin of his...did this all really happen to her?"

_I loved you, Suzette. You never realized how I felt. You only had your sights for your lover. He wasn't worth it. He was only using you, Suzette. I would've never done that to you. I would've never been a despicable Romeo who betrayed and abandoned his forgotten Juliet. _

"That's so sad..." I muttered again, refusing to take my eyes off the page. Suddenly, I came to the realization that there was one final line on the page, a line that would cause some color to claim my cheeks, but only for a minute, which later escalated into slight giggling.

_"My little bird. Wrap me in your beautiful wings and jewel-like eyes..."..._

_Honestly, Suzette, how could a line so corny have seduced you?_

"I see now that he had a bit of a...sense of humor," I pointed out, still giggling slightly. I shifted my gaze towards Luna, who was sitting right in front of me, eyeing me with those shimmering golden orbs. "Well, that line _was _a bit cheesy," I added, placing the diary gently on my bed and scooping Luna up, placing her gently on my lap. I stroked the sleek ebony fur on her lap as she murmured a low purr.

I glanced back towards the diary, eyeing each and every tattered detail of it. "It almost sounded as though he was actually in _love_ with her..." I uttered under my breath. "Sounded like a real crooner, too..." I yawned loudly as my back made contact with the mattress of my bed. Luna remained on my lap. "I think a little nap would do me some good," I said, closing my eyelids slightly. "At least I finished my homework at school."

I shifted my tired gaze towards the diary that laid on the bed beside me. "I really, really want to read on, but," I yawned again, "I don't have the motivation to do so now, so..." Today had been exceptionally slow, much like many of the other days in my life. It was...the same routine over and over again. Wake up. Get dressed. Wash up. Go to school for about six long hours. Go home. Do homework if needed. Have dinner. Take a bath or shower. Read a book. Go to bed. The same thing happens the next day. And the next day. And the next day.

Finding the diary was basically the main highlight of my day. Then again, many things that seem unimportant tend to be the highlight of my day, whether it's, for example, accomplishing something while playing Pokemon on my DS or Final Fantasy on my Playstation, or if something happened that somehow got in the way of my usual daily routine.

It's times like these where I had wished for something "out of the ordinary" to happen, something that would only seem possible in the world of media or stories. But what were the chances of _that_ happening, huh? At least visiting London would be the perfect interruption of this repetitive, broken clock that was my life. It may possibly even be the main highlight of my entire _year_, let alone for two weeks or so.

There was a sudden knock on my door. Knowing for a fact that there were only two human beings in the entire household, the knock obviously came from my father. "Yeah?" I called, still a tad drowsy.

My dad opened the door slightly, peeking his head into the room. "I'm going to the grocery store to get some stuff for dinner, and then I'm heading for the package store afterwards," he told me. "Is there anything you want in particular?"

"Erm..." I sat up, causing Luna to finally leap off my lap and land on the glossy wooden floor on her tiny paws. "Cereal would be nice for tomorrow morning. It doesn't matter which kind so surprise me."

My father nodded slightly as he opened the door all the way and stepped into my room. He took a glance at the decrepit diary. "So did you start reading that book of yours yet?" he questioned me.

I nodded. "Yeah," I replied, "it's really good."

"That's good, well," he placed his large hand on the crown of my head and started messing with my hair. "I should get going now, so I'll see ya later, kiddo."

"Okay, bye, Dad," I said, watching him leave my room at an instant. I let out yet another yawn as I leaned back once again. "And now for some sleep," I uttered, yawning yet again. I heard my cat meow in reply as I shut my eyes. It didn't take long for me to finally succumb to sleep and sinking into a world where anything could happen, whether it was a good thing or not. Either way, I'd rather be dreaming. Even if I was awake, I would still cram my head into books to escape the real world for a change, where the impossible or the unthinkable would happen.

So let me dream for the rest of my life...

**(A/N: Chapter 2 is done! Again, it makes me so happy that people actually liked this story. This gives me the motivation to continue with it. Thanks to you all who read and reviewed. The fact that you guys took the time to give this story a chance meant much to me. Thank you all so very much. The next chapter will be more involved around the diary. I just wanted to show readers about Aubrey's background and her daily life. Aside from the second page of the diary, that was mainly what this chapter was about. Anyways, I'll end this author's note. Thanks again, everyone, and enjoy this story!)**

**Twilight-to-Nightfall**


	3. The Tale of a Corrupted Childhood

Chapter 3

The Tale of a Corrupted Childhood

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(A/N: La, la, la, hello there, everyone! I'm back with the update of _Tattered Pages_! I'm so excited about how many reviews I have gotten so far and the fans I'm getting for this story. I'm truly surprised, and happy at the same time. I'm glad my writing has improved for this story and for another that I'm writing. I have two stories up that I cannot bear to look at anymore, due to the horrid writing style and the dreadful characters. _Tattered Pages _and _The Love of Clouds and Laptops_ are truly the gems of all of the fanfictions I have ever written in my entire life. _A Saturday to Remember _is leaning more towards comedy, but it's still better than my older stories.

Now, I'm babbling, right?

Well, I'll end this author's note. Hope you all enjoy this chapter!)

**_For those of you who reviewed chapter 2..._**

**natalie92493: **Thank you so much! You haven't read Godchild yet? It's really good. It's really not that "long" of a series either. The Cain Saga has five volumes and Godchild, the sequel, has eight. So the entire Cain series has thirteen volumes. Yeah, Cain loved his cousin Suzette.

**PrincessVictoriaAnnMacbeth: **Thank you. And that review from earlier didn't bother me at all. I was actually glad he or she wrote that. That person was trying to give me good advice. That's exactly the kind of thing I'm trying to avoid. I want to make this story as lovely as possible. So, don't worry about me, I'm fine. -grin-

**tanya: **Ha, ha! Never had my own personal cheer squad before. This should be interesting. Heh, heh, well thank you!

**BlueFox of the Moon: **Thanks! Whoops! Didn't realize that there were any grammatical mistakes. Silly me. Well, if they are hardly noticeable, then it shouldn't be _that _big of a deal, right? As for the humor in Cain's diary, I'm glad you liked it!

**Sorryll: **Ha, ha, there's no way I'll abandon this story just yet! It's great to know how many people like it. Did I really write Cain's diary well? I was a bit worried that he was going to be a tad bit, well, out of character. And I like this new title too. It may not be the best, but it's definitely an improvement. Oh, and good luck on your Godchild fanfic! When I have the time, I'll read it and review it!

**Laney: **Aw, thank you so much! Here's your update!

**Magami no Shi: **Thank you! I'm glad you like it so far. Because of the mood of this story, I try to make it as descriptive as possible. I think this is the first story I have ever written that was totally descriptive. I have another that's quite descriptive too, but not as much as this one. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

**Riki-Tiki-Tabby: **Thanks! I'm so glad that you like it so far! And thanks for complimenting my writing. -smiles- Here's your update!

**GeishaKing (For chapter 1): **Thank you, Batto-kun! And I figured that you were happy about the Harry Potter and Memoirs of a Geisha bit. Ha, ha! Thanks for the review, buddy!

**Rowangirl96: **Aw, thank you! Enjoy this update!

**twilightdreamer16: **Thank you very much! And I have finally updated! Enjoy!

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"Keep to your right...You _right_...Au--Gah! Aubrey!"

Oh, great. I bumped into a curb again. Brilliant, Aubrey, just flippin' brilliant.

My father sat in the passenger's seat rubbing his aching head as I remained seated in the driver's seat. My hands gripped onto the wheel of the motionless automobile tightly. My eyes were glued onto the window before me, peering into the outside world that would most likely turn into a frozen white wonderland due to the little snowflakes that were gracefully falling from the gray blanket in the sky. Most of the multihued autumn leaves that brought color to the season had descended from the now bare trees, and would soon face their bitter frozen demise once snow came.

My father had decided to take me around town to practice driving. How I did? Well, it was anything _but_ flawless...I would hit a curb from time to time, I almost hit two or three cars while struggling to pull in and out of an open parking space, and I even almost crashed into a pole and a stop sign.

It appeared as though driving school was nothing but a waste of time, since my driving had total flaws and nothing more. Driving like that would give a parent a sudden heart attack.

I was quite surprised my father hadn't reached to _that_ level of anxiety yet.

"Erm, uh, hey, it's alright, kiddo," Dad told me with uncertainty hinting in his voice as he patted my shoulder. I didn't flinch one bit. It was as though I was a doll, or even dead. "You know what they say, 'practice makes perfect'. Heh, heh..."

I finally released the wheel from my tight grasp and placed my hands on my lap. I refused to pull my gaze away from the grim environment of late autumn. "So tell me," I finally started, sighing deeply, "how does it feel to have a daughter who can't even drive to save her own life?"

My father chuckled at my sulking as he messed with my hair like always. "Oh, Aubrey, don't be so pessimistic. I'm sure there are _lots_ of kids your age who can't drive yet. You weren't _that_ bad. You just--"

"Sucked?" I finished simply in a monotone voice.

"_No_...You just need some...improvement, that's all."

"...Dad?"

"Yes, Aubrey?"

"I guess I'm not getting my driver's license just yet, correct?"

He just stared at me with a blank expression on his face as I returned his look. "I'm not touching _that_ one with a ten-foot pole..." I sighed heavily once again. I envisioned myself evolving into old age, and having my own parents or friends drive me around everywhere. I visualized myself growing up without any sense of freedom or independence. "Hey," started my dad, who had ultimately interrupted my rather morbid thoughts.

His sudden reply had caused me to snap back into reality. I finally pulled my gaze from the front window and turned to face my father. "Yeah?" I said in wonder.

"Um, how's about _I _take over for now," he suggested. "Might as well head back home before snow starts to come down heavily." Replying with a simple and silent nod, I unbuckled my safety belt and stepped out of the car as my father mirrored my moves. As soon as we were settled, my father started the car and drove off. "So," Dad started in attempts to start a decent conversation with me, "aside from driving, how was school today?"

I merely shrugged. "Fine, I suppose," I answered simply, "it was completely uneventful as usual. I aced my Psychology test and as I finished my book City of Ashes when we had a sub in Calculus, Megan finally gave back City of Bones to me after about a month and a half. Goddamn, she's a slow reader."

Dad let out a low chuckle. "You and your books," he playfully remarked. "It makes me kind of wonder what your mother ate while she was pregnant with you."

"Um, Dad? I think that sort of thing is hereditary," I corrected him.

"Heh, heh, thanks for correcting me, kiddo." I didn't bother responding to him as I fixed my gaze onto the front window that acted as a target for the pallid ice that fell from the grim heavens. Although it was technically still autumn, it appeared as though winter had just abruptly snuck up from behind all due to the sudden wintry mix of ice and snow. "How about that other book you're reading?" Dad suddenly questioned me, once again destroying the silence and pulling me back into reality.

I turned to him and cocked a brow. "What other book?" I wondered in curiosity.

"You know, the one your _lover_ wrote? Heh, heh."

I rolled my eyes at his playful teasing. Allow me to explain. Because I was so completely enthralled by the diary I had found just days ago, my father had picked up a little joke, thus dubbing Cain Hargreaves, the man who was responsible for the diary, my "lover".

I couldn't blame him though. He must've caught the flicker of interest in my eyes as I gazed upon the ink that told the story of Cain's life. I had read about the mysteries he had solved, like the Branded Bibi, a tale about a girl who went through a tragic life with a false name, and the death of a young man named Cleo, who was ultimately slain by his jealous brother.

Cain was like a Sherlock Holmes, only he was actually a real person.

Just recently, I read about his younger half sister he never knew he had named Mary Weather. She was the result of a union between Cain's father, now discovered to be named Alexis Hargreaves, and their maid, the late Alegra Duke. Mary Weather was described as a very pretty ten-year-old with long locks of shimmering gold and sapphire-like eyes. Another little fact I had discovered was that Cain was an Earl.

That was about all I had read up to so far. Everything about him, his age and his past in general, were shrouded in complete mystery. That had only sparked my interest in that man more. Perhaps if I read on, I would uncover the answers to my questions and wondering. "Alright, we're almost home," my father finally spoke up, ultimately breaching the silence that slowly crept upon us.

I nodded as I shifted my gaze towards the window to my side. The light flakes that gracefully descended to the ground at first had eventually picked up their speed due to the heavy wind blowing through. I found it completely absurd how the environment was calm and serene only a moment ago, and then from out of nowhere, it was as though Mother Nature herself suddenly became furious, beckoning the snowflakes to fall violently and the heavy winds to howl loudly as though they were screaming bloody murder.

I observed the pedestrians, donned in thick heavy coats that were bejeweled with tiny flakes, hurriedly scamper through the blizzard in hopes to finally make it to their destination. Frost-covered cars, ranging from Mustangs to SUVs, came speeding their way down the chilly pallid powder that blanketed the tarred roads.

So much for autumn. Winter was just around the corner.

"Man, this is nuts," I heard my father utter as he watched the road through the moving windshield wipers. "It's a good thing I took you out driving before this happened, eh, Aubbers?"

I chuckled at the endearing nickname he bestowed upon me ever since I was a toddler. "Yeah," I nodded, resting my head against the side window, flitting my eyes from there to my father, who continued concentrating his gaze out the front window. He took a quick glance back at me and flashed a warm smile before turning his gaze back onto the road.

"You know, you might wanna call your mother before we leave for London," he suggested, much to my displeasure. Now, I, of course, did not detest my mother. In fact, I still loved her, even after the divorce and her remarriage, and I knew that she still loved me, too, despite how we'd used to butt heads all the time. It was all in the matter of, well, why bother? I doubted that she even cared that I was taking a trip out of the country with my father, her ex husband. She had another family to worry about, and Dad and I were probably nothing more than just pieces of her memory.

"Okay, fine..." I sighed, giving in to Dad's offer. I raised my head up to see where we were, only to find out that Dad was finally pulling in on our driveway.

"Ah, home sweet home," Dad sighed in bliss, unbuckling his safety belt as I did the same. We rushed our way up the stairs to our front porch due to the fact that we practically freezing to death. Dad hurriedly inserted the house key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. At an instant, we both stepped inside the house and shut the door behind.

The familiar scampering from Priest echoed throughout the entire area, and before long, he came making his way into the room and tackled my father on his hind legs. "Hi, Priest," I greeted the lovely canine as I stroked his head. I quickly scaled my way up the lengthy staircase until I reached to the second floor of the household. I stepped into my bedroom that was still completely spotless. My suitcase still sat in the dead center of the room. I found Luna curled up on my bed beside the diary that laid beside her.

"Hello, Luna dear," I sang in bliss as I plopped down onto the bed. This action caused Luna to suddenly rise from her originally position and leapt off the bed. I sat there as I watched her quietly prance her way out of the room.

With a shrug, I flitted my gaze towards the diary and gingerly lifted it from the quilted surface. I fixed my stare at it intently and ran my fingertips over the decrepit surface. That action sent a sudden shockwave that ran through my entire body. I shook away that little minor detail and opened the diary. I flipped through the rough pages until I reached to an entry I haven't read yet.

"Alrighty, let's take a look," I muttered.

_September 30th, 1887_

_The dream...such an old dream...A dream that was also an old memory. Those grim memories...thinking about those memories make the scars burn...  
I apologize. You probably don't even know what I'm talking about, do you? Well, in a nutshell, I'm talking about my early years before I became Earl of Hargreaves. _

_It all started off when I was but a child. My mother, Lenora, found me hiding in the garden. She was armed with a deadly weapon. She was screaming, "If only you hadn't been born!"._

_In other words, she wanted me dead._

_Before she had the chance to do so, she suddenly dropped dead. My father told me she had poisoned herself. My father held me close and comforted me, muttering over and over again that it was only a nightmare...that I should try to forget it all ever happened..._

That was jaw-dropping. I had only started that entry and _already_ I was completely shocked, and at the same time, appalled. I've decided to read on.

_Seven long years passed after that event. I turned twelve years old. It was the same year where I met Riffael Raffit, my man servant. He found me outside late at night when I was burying my dead baby bird. Father wasn't pleased over the fact that I left the mansion, so he went about his way of punishing me like always...  
Riff had to be the eyewitness of my father etching my back with that blood-curtailing whip of his. He told me, "I'm doing this for you. So you will be cleansed of your sins in the eyes of God.".  
Here's were things only worsen. Where I had finally came to the realization that everything that I had pushed back in the corner of my shell was true. I denied it over and over again, but I knew my father hated me. My aunt Augusta, my father's older sister and Suzette's mother, who had plunged to her death through the window of the metal ward, was actually my biological mother. I was the result of the incestuous union between my father and his older sister. _

_Upon hearing the news of Augusta's death, my father blamed me for it. He wanted to kill me by slipping poison in my tea. As I played dead, he told me that he truly did hate me, and that he was that one who poisoned Lenora.  
Fortunately, I had this whole thing planned. I switched the arsenic with rose powder in case my father really was going to kill me. I poisoned his pipe in return. He would smoke his pipe every time he had completed something that satisfied him. I knew the next time would be after he killed me, so I was well prepared. _

_Before leaping to his death, he uttered these final words to me. _

_"I won't let you be happy. You'll got through life unloved and die alone. Cain...the name of the world's first murderer!"_

_Moments after, I shed my final tears, vowing to never cry again. Maybe then, at the age of twelve, was when I finally grew up. That was when I had taken over as the Earl of Hargreaves. I find it kind of...odd how I suddenly dreamt about those events. I wonder why that is?_

_Will I ever break away from the nightmare?_

The entry came to a close right there. I remained sitting there, refusing to pull my gaze from the mind-boggling entry about his horrific past. Everything I had just read...everything that that man had gone through...it was just a total...how do I put this...?

_Mind rape_.

I had never read anything like that before. My shaking hand slowly stirred towards the page, caressing the page that was rough beneath my sensitive senses. My mouth was slightly opened and dry as thought I was dehydrated. "Cain..." I uttered in a soft whisper, moving my fingertips across the page bit by bit. "You poor soul..."

There came an abrupt knock on the door, which caused me to break free from the sudden trance I was in. My head shot up from the diary. "Yeah, Dad?" I called as I watched my father peek his head into the room.

"Hey, Aubbers, chicken is almost ready," he announced. "Why don't you set the table?"

The lost state of mind I was in started to diminish bit by bit. "Uh, yeah, sure," I nodded, placing the diary beneath my pillow and making my way towards my father. My thoughts remained completely on what I had just read.

My father took the time to notice my uneasiness. "You okay, kiddo? You look kinda pale," he pointed out in concern.

I nodded my head slowly. "Yeah, I'm fine," I assured, somewhat lying at the same time. As I followed my father downstairs, all I could think about was the entry I read, about the horrors of a corrupted childhood that would break the hearts of many.

The corrupted life of a poor man...

**(A/N: Chapter 3 is done! I'm really starting to enjoy typing this story. It's a lot fun to write. So yeah, we've finally reached to the point of Cain's early childhood. It made me a little depressed typing that part since I felt so bad for him. It was also a pain too since I had to keep looking back in volume 2 of The Cain Saga. But, whatever, it was needed. Well, I hope you guys liked this chapter. I hope. Ha, ha. **

**Well, read and review, everyone!)**

**Twilight-to-Nightfall**


	4. Dream

Chapter 4

Dream

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(A/N: Hiya! I have returned with the update of _Tattered Pages_ ! I'm so so sorry for taking forever to update. I've been really busy lately with school and work. And that's the story of my life. Ugh. Um...what to say, what to say...Well, there really isn't anything to say at the moment. I've got nothing. Ha, ha. Well, enjoy this update!)

**_For those of you who reviewed chapter 3..._ **

**BlueFox of the Moon: **Thanks! And I honestly _did_ feel terrible for Cain. Do you know how heartbreaking it was for me to read and write that part out again? I adore that guy and I didn't think he deserved the torture...

**tanya: **Ha, ha, I didn't realize I made Aubrey think morbidly. But hey, don't we _all_ think that way sometimes? Heh, heh.

**Rowangirl96: **Ha, ha, no I'm still alive and kicking. Enjoy this update!

**PrincessVictoriaAnnMacbeth: **Thank you! Here's your update!

**KageMori: **Aw, thank you so much! As for your question, I'm afraid I cannot tell you. I don't want to ruin anything. It's against my honor code to spoil anything to anyone...well, unless they _want_ to be spoiled. Ha, ha.

**The Wandering Writer: **Oh, thank you very much! I'm really glad to hear that you really like this story! I didn't think anyone would like it when it made its debut. It's great to see that this story is liked. I like Aubrey's name too. And I used to go to the library all the time during lunch. Now that I have many cafe studies, I have plenty of time to go to the library. Ha, ha.

**Bookworm275: **Thank you! And that idea just came to me from who knows where. Hee, hee.

**Artificial Life Creator: **Thanks! Actually, Cain _has _said "corny" one time in the first volume of The Cain Saga. I never imagined him saying that, but I guess he did. Ha, ha! And I wish I had enough talent to type with one hand, but I like typing with two. -grins-

**Lord Makura: **Thank you! Enjoy this update!

**SapphireCuatro: **Thanks! I'm glad you like it. Hope you enjoy this update!

**fireyred: **Thank you! Here's your update!

* * *

"Alright, awesome job, ladies! Thank you all for coming!"

That chirp came from the mouth of Patrick, the middle-aged, flamboyant, and happy aquatic-exercise instructor, who floated about in the wide and vast pool that stood hidden in the enormous building dubbed with the name Healthtrax. Everyone who participated in the activity, ranging from women of all ages and all shapes and sizes, bid their farewells to the slightly plump man and motioned their way out of the pool.

Megan and I sat at the very edge of the pool as we watched the women either exit from the room or move on to the two hot tubes that stood off to the side. Bundled in our warm towels, both with the brand name Nautica, we randomly kicked our feet in the lukewarm pool. The enticing scent of chlorine seeped through every pore in our body and one-pieced bathing suits.

"Hey, Aubby?" Megan started, calling me by the nickname she had given me as she made little circles in the water with her foot.

I glanced up from the reflection of the dimmed lights that illuminated the pool area and flitted my gaze over towards Megan. "Hm?" I replied.

She giggled slightly as she leaned over towards me, shifting her gaze at Patrick, who was still floating around in the deeper end of the pool. "What are your bets on Patrick? Do you reckon he leans _that_ way, if you _know_ what I mean?" she snickered. In short, she was questioning if Patrick was, well, homosexual.

I shrugged. "Who knows and who cares. There's nothing wrong with that," I told her, sounding somewhat stern.

"Oh, no, no, I never said there was anything _wrong_ with it!" she giggled. "I just wanted to know what _you_ thought about it."

I shrugged the second time. I glanced back down towards the chlorine-infected pool, scrutinizing each and every detail of my reflection that had become deformed due to the ripples that were created by Megan and me. More ripples began to make their way distorting the mirror as I detected Patrick finally climbing out of the pool and out of the room. It wasn't long before the remaining women from the previous workout, who were all sitting in the hot tubes, stepped out and followed his motion. The only living beings left were Megan and me.

"So, Aubby," Megan began after a long period of silence, "when did you say you were going to London again?"

I finally pulled my gaze from the malformation of my reflection and turned to face her. "Oh, um, I'm going this Saturday--Ah!"

My answer was interrupted shortly before I had the chance to complete it, for Megan had suddenly threw her arms around my waist and squeezed me like a rag doll. "Aw, that's less than three days!" she cried, hugging me tighter, restricting the air supply in my lungs. "I'm gonna miss you, man!"

I chuckled slightly as I wriggled my way out of her grasp, secretly taking deep breaths from time to time. "Don't worry, Meg, it's not like I plan on staying there _forever_ ," I reminded her, pulling my feet from the water and standing up, trying to keep my balance at the same time. I held my index finger up to her nose. "Tell ya what? I'll bring you something from London. How's _that_ ?"

Megan's pale sky-blue eyes seemed to have lit up upon listening to my request, but soon darkened from not what I can say was annoyance, but rather, mockery. "As long as it's not one of those crappy souvenir T-shirts or coffee mugs, then I'm good to go."

I let out another chuckle. "Ha, ha, don't worry, Meg, I promise to get you something nice. Nothing expensive, though. Screw that." Megan finally stood up from her original position, which was a sign saying that we should leave the pool area. As soon as we stepped out of the room, we started dashing our way towards the locker room to avoid freezing to death from the sudden chilled air that flew from the tiny vents from the windows. What a fine time to head for the gym when it was close to deadly winter, am I right?

The two of us finally made it to the locker rooms and changed rapidly. Standing side by side, people would wonder how she and I were even friends. Megan Swan had a peppy and spunky personality, always thinking positively, oftentimes flirty and could get any guy she wanted. She had a tiny and skinny body type, and had long locks of gold that cascaded down to her shoulders and the palest sky-blue eyes one would ever see. She was usually donned in bright-colored clothing, ranging from American Eagle to Salvation Army. She was the girlie one of the two of us. The perfect girl. The "Mary Sue" of one's fan fiction.

As for me, I was nothing in comparison.

I was quiet, and sometimes reserved, a major bookworm who would balance between being optimistic and pessimistic. My hair did not resemble a gem or a beautiful rock, but dirt, which did not cascade down my body, but was cut short to my jaw. If my back was facing someone, one would've probably guessed that I was a boy, since because of the angle-cut, the hair at the back of my head stopped a few inches above the start of my backbone.

I wasn't skinny like Megan, but I wasn't exactly "fat" or "chubby" either. Slender was the word I was looking for. Unlike Megan, I was usually wearing hoodies or T-shirts (some with band names on them, may I add), none of the two falling under the "bright colors" category. Since I detested wearing skirts, unlike Megan, I was usually donned in jeans that were sometimes faded or slightly ripped at the knees.

I guess the only "attractive" feature I had were my cerulean eyes, the eyes I had inherited from my mother. Despite that little fact, I wasn't able to attract the specimens of the opposite sex. I never had a boyfriend before. The guys I grew up with only had eyes for girls like Megan, illusions of the girl of their dreams. To them, I was either invisible, or, how to put this, "just there". I was even questioned by one fellow if I was a lesbian, which was totally not the case at all, considering how I was heterosexual and was attracted to guys and _only_ guys.

But whatever.

After changing into dryer, more comfortable attire, we sauntered our way out of the gym, passing by machines and people drenched with sweat along the way. The hotness and the humidity of the gym was killing me, and I knew it was probably aggravating Megan, too. I was just glad to finally step out of the building to feel the chilled breeze passing through the air, to feel the snow that descended from the sky crunching beneath my black worn-out Reeboks, to stare up at the glistening stars on the moonlit sky.

Epic freedom.

"So, are you going to take me home, Meg?" I asked as I watched Megan throw on her white puffy jacket that made her resemble a marshmallow.

"Ha! As if I have a choice?" Megan snorted, pulling out her keys to unlock the steel-colored convertible that parked in the corner all by its lonesome. We finally stepped inside the car and before long, we drove off into the night. "So when are you getting your license, Aubrey?" she questioned me, peering out the front window into the abyss of nightfall.

I slouched in my seat in a sluggish manner. "Please, Meg, spare me the humiliation, alright? I totally blew it when my dad took me out driving, so it's safe to say that I won't be behind the wheel for a _while_ ..."

She snorted. "Good. I'm afraid to see how you _really_ drive..."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Shut it..." I lazily rested my head on the glass window to my side, switching my gazes from the front and side windows, fixing my stares onto the falling snow that shown like a radiant shower of diamonds and pearls from the blinding lights from the car in front of us. I flitted over towards the digital clock before me that blinked "8:56 P.M." in a bright shade of blue over and over again. It was getting a little late, and I was certain my father was pacing around in the living room at that very moment.

"So are you still obsessing over that book you found in the library?" she suddenly brought up, thus ultimately breaking the silence that was slowly creeping upon us.

My body involuntarily sat erect in my seat. Finally, a decent topic that had sparked my interest. "Oh, definitely!" I chirped. "It's actually a diary, but it's so interesting, y'know? Just recently, I had read about so many mind-boggling mysteries he had been a part of, and--Oh! And just recently, I've read about this doctor named Jizabel Disraeli who wants to take his eyes for whatever reason--Cain never really went into detail with that--and--"

"I think _somebody_ has a Cain complex," Megan giggled with a sly smirk streaking across her face.

My body stiffened in my seat. "N-no, I don't!" I objected, shooting her a look. "Just because I'm intrigued by him and that I sympathize him, it does not mean I--!"

"What if he's an old geezer, though?" she interrupted, struggling to suppress her laugh. "Now _that'll_ be a rather unfortunate case."

"Who cares? He's _dead_ ," I counter-attacked, raising a brow.

"...Ah. Touche."

9:05 P.M. Megan was still driving on the highway at the moment, cautiously avoiding any mishaps that would trigger the start of complete and total catastrophe. She was driving at a reasonable speed, and was carefully observing the other automobiles while still able to keep her gaze onto the snowy path ahead. I dug my hand into the side pocket of my jacket and whipped out my onyx-glazed cell phone to check if I had received any calls from my father. The most recent call I had earned was from earlier in the day, when Megan invited me to the gym.

I yawned in drowsiness as I snuggled my head on the rather uncomfortable surface of the icy hard window. My eyelids began to droop slightly as I fought to stay awake. "Oh, man, Dad's gonna kill me..." I groaned forcefully, banging my head lightly against the window.

"Aubby, you'll be fine," Megan assured with a giggle as she continued to keep her gaze onto the road. She took a glimpse of me from the corner of her eye. "Oh, and you should probably stop doing that if you wish to keep those precious gifted brain cells of yours."

My little head-banging session finally came to a halt when I took the time to actually think about the brain cells I had developed over the years. I yawned again as I sat up from my seat. I rubbed the tips of my fingers over my eyelids, rubbing and scratching out the unnecessary dirt that gradually formed in the corners of my eyes. I drowsily shifted my gaze forward, my vision hazy, as I came to the realization that we were finally off the busy highway.

The dimmed lights coming from blinking bright neon signs of local cafes, eateries, and the streetlights illuminated the small town. The wind gradually started to pick up as the falling snow diminished bit by bit. I whipped out my cell phone again to check for calls. Still nothing. I sighed gently as I closed the cellular device, only to literally jump in my seat, startled, as the chorus line of the melodious hymn of J-rocker Hyde's "The Cape of Storms" blasted through the speakers. While the music proceeded to assault the airwaves, Megan gave me a strange glance as I hastily answered the call.

"Aubrey, where are you?" boomed my father's voice from the other side. His voice hinted irritability.

Dammit.

"U-uh..." I stammered, unable to seek words to say. "Hold on a sec, alright?" I pulled the phone from my ear, covering the speakers with my palm, as I leaned towards Megan, who shifted her wheel slightly to make a turn. "Hey, are we almost there?" I asked her in a low voice so that my already agitated father wouldn't eavesdrop in our discussion.

"In a _minute_ , Aubrey, we're just about to pass the cul-de-sac right now..." Megan groaned, somewhat hinting some annoyance she probably had felt for my dad at the moment.

Reply with a nod and a silent "okay", I sat erect in my seat and held the phone close to my ear. "Dad, we're about to pass the cul-de-sac right now, so we should be there in less than a minute," I assured him, mentally pleading that the information I had passed onto him reduced his risk of an anxiety attack.

I heard him huff into the phone, giving me a hint that he was...somewhat relieved? "Okay, Aubbers, I'll see you at home. Bye." I heard a click. He hung up on me. This gave me a clue to shut the lid of my phone and placed it securely in my pocket.

"Hey, man, you really need to change your ring tone..." Megan snorted, not looking at me.

"Well, what's wrong with it?" I wondered, raising a brow. "I had that song 'Miracle!' by Paramore just last week."

"No, Aubrey, that was about a month ago," she corrected, chuckling and all. "Last week, you had that song by Uver--uver-uver-uver--"

"_UVERworld_ ...and the song was 'Shaka Beach-Laka Laka La'," I fixed with a smirk.

"Whatever," she snickered, pulling in on my driveway and ultimately parking behind my father's car. Peering through the window, I found the light from the lamp illuminating the entire living room, along with a rather large body pacing around.

Lovely. I'm going to be expecting a semi bitch fit...

"Thanks for the ride, Meg," I thanked, unbuckling my safety belt and stepping out of the car.

"No prob, just hurry up and get your license already," she jokingly complained with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes in a playful sort of manner as I shut the car door. I remained standing stiff and still on my driveway as I watched her pull out. Upon exchanging waves "goodbye", I watched her drive off until her vehicle was no longer visible to the human eyes.

I turned my body around so that I would face my little burgundy-tiled house. I sighed heavily. "Time to face the wrath of Papa-dearest," I murmured, finally allowing my legs to go in motion as I made my way towards the front door of my house with key in hand. I opened the door and stepped inside, only to find my father standing at the dead center of the living room. He had his huge arms crossed over his chest as he tapped his foot impatiently.

Allow me to explain. As if arriving home hours after the sun went to sleep was bad enough (do forgive him; he's strict), I had also forgotten to tell him that I was even leaving the house at the first place, considering how he was still at work when Megan called me up earlier.

"Hi, Daddy," I sheepishly greeted, shutting the door behind me.

"Hi..." he responded rather sternly, giving me a disapproving stare. Oh, dear...

Thinking quickly, I decided to explain myself to him before he could cut in with a lecture. "Look, Dad, I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was going out, so--"

"You could've at least _called_ ..." he told me. Yeah, way to beat a dead horse while she was down.

I groaned forcefully at his stubbornness. "I know, I know, but I forgot," I confessed, "but it's not as though I'm out doing _bad_ things. Come on, Dad, go easy on me, please?"

Annoyed, my father let out a frustrated sigh as he sluggishly made his way towards the kitchen. "It's fine, Aubbers, but just let me know next time, alright?" he called.

"Okay," I nodded silently as I made my way upstairs. After reaching to the second floor of the household, I made my way towards my bedroom, passing the sleeping and snoring Priest. How sad it was going to be to drop off my beloved pets at a vet while my father and I head for London. Luna was resting in her usual spot on my bed, all curled up like an ebony fuzz ball. Lying on top of my pillow was the decrepit diary that I had treasured after a short amount of time with it.

"To read," I began, sluggishly making my way towards the bed and somewhat quoting _Hamlet_ , "or not to read? That is the question." I sat on the very edge of the bed and flitted my gaze towards the little tattered black book, eyeing every decrepit detail of it as usual. I kicked off my sneakers and threw my legs over on the bed so that I was completely lying on my back. That signaled Luna to sit up from her spot and timidly crawl her way towards me to rest beside me. I reached over towards the diary that rested beside my head and shakily yet gently ran my fingers over its torn exterior. A sheer rush of excitement and curiosity tingled every nerve possible in the human anatomy.

From the very beginning, that little black book I had found always seemed to have that sort of effect on me every time I scrutinized through the faded and bleeding ink. It even went so far as to every time I even touched the cover. Perhaps it was destiny for me to find the diary? Perhaps by finding the diary, something amazing and out of the ordinary would happen?

Who was I kidding?

I was too much of a dreamer to face actual reality.

I grabbed the diary from its resting spot, finally deciding from that little debate "to read". I flipped through every page I had read, starting from the very beginning all the way to the entry I had recently read. The entries in between? Just unnecessary fluff, which gradually led to the year of 1888. I finally flipped to a page that was completely unfamiliar to my eyes.

_March 15th, 1888_

_So...I'm getting married..._

I cocked an eyebrow at the heading. Based on the way he wrote it, it was rather hard to decipher how he really felt about the marriage. I couldn't decide whether the feeling was of annoyance, or that he just didn't seem to care. Figuring that I couldn't solve the debate on my own, I continued to read on.

_It was all Uncle Neil's idea. He was annoyed by what people have been saying about me, about how they would dub me as the "Earl of Poisons", or the "Prince of Bad Luck". He figured that in order to protect the family name, I had to get married. Absurd, right? So here I am, Cain Hargreaves, age seventeen, and getting married in six months._

_Oh, yes. About my fiancee. Her name is Emeline Lauderdale, the eldest daughter of the Lauderdale family. Before all of this, I had only seen her what, once? Maybe even twice? Also, she barely talked at all. I've only talked to her brother Gilford, actually. _

_In all honesty, I had nothing against her in any way. I just don't want to marry her. My uncle, however, well...well, he bribed me. He had the document of Mary's adoption all set. All he needed to do was sign it. He told me that if I marry Emeline, then he would sign the document, thus making Mary part of the Hargreaves family and making him her guardian. _

_So I agreed to marry her, much to my displeasure._

"Sheesh..." I commented, "unlucky much?" I continued to read onto the next few paragraphs.

_Now...about Emeline. I finally saw her after many years. I must say, she has become very beautiful over the years. However, that's not all that changed. What the bloody hell happened to the shy and silent Emeline? She had gained a lot of confidence, but she is also, dare I say it, quite obnoxious and conceited. What was Uncle Neil thinking when he decided this?_

_Also, I'd like to note that Emeline also has two suitors: a giant and a midget. Not literally, of course. The bigger one is Oscar Gabriel, the older son of Baron Gabriel. The other, much smaller suitor is Keith Sutton, who is distantly related to Emeline. _

_Eh...I don't really care much for them..._

_...Also...I just saw Gilford again. At first, I didn't think it was him because although he was physically an adult, he still acted like a child. He didn't even recognize me. After reintroducing myself to him, he told me that I was lying, and that the Cain he knew was a boy like him. He told me that I was trying to fool him because he was only a child._

_I questioned Emeline about the situation. She told me that some time ago, Gilford's mental clock had somehow reversed itself. Because of it, his mind returned to his childhood. Ever since that day, he had been acting like a ten-year-old boy. He is unable to recognize his own family, and he can't even write properly, so says Emeline. He's been confined in their basement since that day. _

_Emeline also told me something that made me quite annoyed with her parents. When Gilford didn't show any improvement, her parents were becoming desperate for her to make a good marriage. They figured that in order to preserve the family honor, they feel they must hide Gilford's illness. They thought that it was best if I married her before his sickness is discovered. _

_What revolting minds they have. _

_Well, I should be well on my way. I have to attend a party with the Lauderdale family to advertise my engagement to Emeline. It was their idea, not mine._

_Also, I ask you, do you believe it's necessary for Oscar and Keith to attend the party too? I'm serious; they are riding on my nerves...Well, farewell..._

Following the final sentence, I drowsily leaned my back down towards the mattress as the diary clumsily slipped from my grasp and laid by my side. So many thoughts and emotions drifted in my thoughts as I slowly slipped into slumber; my amusement towards Cain's situation, my annoyance towards how Cain described his fiancee's characteristics, my curiosity of the whole situation, and finally, more importantly, my sympathy towards Cain's childhood friend Gilford.

Every sight before my very eyes became a sudden blur, and every sound I heard became fuzzy. My eyelids drifted shut as I finally surrendered to the Sandman's waltz that pulled me into complete darkness...and very soon, a world that will never be...

* * *

**_I opened my eyes suddenly after many long hours of imprisonment in complete silence and night. I sat up from my original position and looked around, only to find myself in an area one wouldn't dare to enter at night. _**

**_I was sitting in the heart of a grim and foggy cemetery that was completely unfamiliar to my eyes. Church bells rang in my ears, moaning and groaning their gloomy hymn. The pallid sphere in the dark and dead heavens above shed its radiant moonlight through the thick fog that infected the area, shining down upon me like a halo granted by a cherub. Decrepit and aged headstones from the graves completely filled the entire cemetery._ **

**_Somewhat shocked, I quickly scrambled to my feet and looked around, mentally wondering to myself how I had gotten there. Slowly and cautiously, I signaled my lower limbs to go into motion as I began wandering around the land of the dead. _**

**_During my travel, the sounds of a shovel penetrating the wet and mossy ground rang in my ears. "Grave digging?" I suddenly whispered to myself, following the noise that echoed throughout the land. Just when I thought I had finally reached to my destination, I found that there was nothing there. A crazy assumption suddenly came to thought; was this mysterious cemetery really and truly--I gulped abruptly--haunted? _**

**_Just then, the hooting from a spot-freckled owl that perched on a branch of an old tree startled me for only a moment, causing me to yelp rather loudly and tripping over my feet. I plummeted straight to the ground, granting me the revolting feeling of wetness and mud on my clothes. Cursing to myself, I slowly sat up, only to stop suddenly._ **

**_There was a figure standing about a foot or two before me, a figure of a tall and skinny form of the human anatomy...a figure of a young man. The man was donned completely in the hue of emptiness and night, with a coat that draped over his shoulders and fell over his lean structure. His face was rather hard to vision, for he had a mask that covered his face from the nose down. _****_His hair, deep brown, gracefully danced with the gentle breeze that suddenly visited the rather macabre land. His bangs fell over on his white and flawless face that shown beneath the moonlight, somewhat blinding me with its beauty. _**

**_What took me by surprise about the man the most was not his presence alone, but his deep green eyes that glistened beneath the ray of the moon. What I had suddenly discovered in those subterranean seas of green was a tint of gold that enhanced their overall beauty. _**

**_So many questions danced in my very thoughts. Just who was he? A fallen angel? A beautiful devil?_ **

_**I pulled my gaze from the beauty of those golden-green orbs and glanced downward, only to find him extending his gloved hand toward me. I slowly and timidly stood from the ground and involuntarily made my way towards him. **What am I doing...? **I thought, continuing my way towards the beautiful man with the blank stare before me. I raised my arm up so that my hand was about less than a foot away from his. **It's like I'm in some sort of crazy trance..._

**_I was getting closer. I remained in the abrupt trance I was in as I kept my stare onto the face and eyes of the mysterious stranger. I slowly reached out for him, barely caressing his glove-covered fingertips with my own, until I was suddenly pulled backwards by an unknown cause. I gasped as I struggled to multi-task between breaking free from my sudden capture and reaching out towards the man. He, however, did not respond to my signals of help and suddenly vanished before my very eyes, leaving behind a flock of ebony feathers that gracefully descended to the ground. _**

**_I dropped my jaw to scream, although nothing but a puff of air came out. The unknown capture I was in began to squeeze tightly around my body, practically crushing my lungs. I wheezed to catch a breath, but something icy and cold caught my mouth, shutting it tightly as though my lips had been sewed together. _**

**_My body starting sinking downward into the mud-splattered ground, pulling me deeper and deeper into the inferno abyss known as Hell..._ **

* * *

My eyes shot open an instant after I screamed from the very top of my lungs as my upper body sprang up from the bed. The moonlight that shown through the frail and white curtains illuminated my sweat-drenched form, casting a faint glow to the translucent beads that gracefully slid down my skin.

I shifted my gaze towards my alarm clock that blinked 12:07 A.M. "Sh-shit..." I murmured softly as I silently wiped the sweat from my forehead. "What the hell was up with that dream...?" I questioned myself, my gaze flitting towards each and every nook and cranny in the dim room. "That man..." I continued. "Just who the hell _was_ he? Those eyes...what--?"

My mind suddenly clicked. I quickly turned my head to face the diary that silently rested on the mattress beside me. "A few or so entries ago, Cain mentioned that his eyes--Oh, my god!"

Unbelievable. Was it truly possible that the man who wrote that diary starred in my dreams? Was that my total perspective of Cain all this time?

How creepy...

"AUBREY!!" a voice boomed from the other side of my bedroom door through the shrill barking of the giant German Shepherd. I let out a yelp when my father kicked my door opened and stepped inside.

Oh, and did I mention that he was armed with a rifle?

"Dad?!" I screeched, glowering at him. "What the hell?!"

"I heard you scream! Are you alright, baby?! Did someone break in?!" my father panicked, pointing the rifle towards every corner in my room.

I rolled my eyes. "_No_ , Dad, I had a nightmare, that's all," I explained.

_Although it only **ended** as a nightmare..._

My father's expression softened greatly upon hearing that. He lowered the rifle to his side and scratched his head through his ashen hair. "Oh," he uttered. "Sorry about that, Aubbers." He looked over towards the aged dream catcher that hung beside my window. "The damn thing didn't work, eh?" he commented, scowling at it.

I chuckled slightly as I got up from my bed, walked over towards him and patted his shoulder. "I'm afraid not. But don't worry, Dad. I'm okay. The nightmare was more bizarre than anything."

He cocked an eyebrow, obviously showing some hint of interest. "Really, what _was_ it?" he questioned me in curiosity.

I merely shrugged. "I can't explain it," I whispered, looking down at my bare feet.

How do you explain something when you cannot explain it yourself?

My head shot up when I felt my father's big hand crowning my head, messing with my hair as usual. "Well, okay, kiddo, sleep well, okay?" he chuckled, pulling his hand from my head and replacing it with his lips, granting me a soft kiss on my hair.

I echoed his chuckle. "Only if you do, too," I told him, making my way back towards the bed. "Night, Dad."

"Good night, Aubrey." Upon exchanging our final words for the next few hours or so, my father departed from the room and I dropped to my bed. My eyes drifted shut as I quickly drifted to sleep, continuously pondering about where the Sandman will lead me next. Another world? Nothingness?

Or perhaps in the grasp of the angel of death...?

**(A/N: Chapter 4 is finally completed!! As for the date in Cain's dairy, just making up some wild guesses... And again, I'm truly sorry for taking so long to update! As stated before, I was busy, and I was balancing between school, work, my other two fanfictions, and the start of an ORIGINAL story I plan on publishing once it's completed God knows when. I've only started it so, heh, heh...Well, I'm just glad I finally got this chapter done. I personally liked this chapter because it's a lot longer than the previous three, and I really busted my butt on this one. -sweat drop-**

**Well, I hope you all enjoyed it! Read and review, everyone!)**

**Twilight-to-Nightfall**


	5. To London

Chapter 5

To London

* * *

(A/N: Hi, everyone! I'm back with the super special awesome update of _Tattered Pages_ ! I can't even describe how happy I am to have so many people liking it. Using chapter one as a test subject was totally worth it. I'm glad this story is well liked by you guys. -grins happily- Well, time for the update! Hope you all enjoy! By the way, I'm so very sorry I took forever to update. I've been rather busy lately...heh, heh, sorry again..)

**_For those of you who reviewed chapter 4..._ **

**Bookworm275: **Thanks a bunch! Here's your update and I hope you enjoy it!

**Rowangirl96: **Thank you! Ouch, in trouble huh? That's a bummer. Ha, ha, you're just like me in a way. I love my computer. I'm on it a lot even when I'm NOT in trouble. I lack a life...ha, ha! Oh, and thanks a million for that grammar mistake you've pointed out. I made sure it was all good to go.

**Lord Makura: **Don't worry, I had to re-read and even hold the manga up while typing that chapter. If only I have the entire event all memorized. It is really sad, yet so intoxicating. It makes you want to find out more.

**PrincessVictoriaAnnMacbeth: **Thanks! I'm actually planning out several meanings of the dream at this very moment!

**Magami no Shi: **Aw, thank you very much. Thank God my writing style improved...ha, ha! Wow, I'm actually keeping Cain in character? That's a good thing! I was a little worried that he was going to be a little out of character...which is probably one of the last few things I want happening!

**tanya: **Yes! My first long chapter in the story! Yes, yes he does. It was fun typing up his first cameo appearance. Typing about the dad and his rifle was also a lot of fun. Ha, ha. Well, thank you, and I hope you enjoy this update!

**SapphireCuatro: **Heh, heh, I wasn't exactly planning for the first part of the chapter to be all that exciting, but I just needed some filler to lead to the good stuff! I'm glad you liked the dream sequence. That's probably my favorite part too. Here's your update!

**KageMori: **Thank you! Hope you enjoy this update!

**Artificial Life Creator: **I think March is an okay month for that entry. Close to spring. Thanks though!

**13thhourbells: **Aw, thank you. I'm glad you like my story. I think Aubrey is one of my "better" OCs compared to many I have created in the past. As for your question about Mary being the one to finish the diary, I really can't say. I don't have a clear idea of what the ending is going to be. I have many ideas, but it'll take time before I actually plan them out. Well, with that said, hope you enjoy this update!

**raineofinnocence16: **Aw, thanks, I'm flattered. :D Here's your update! Hope you enjoy!

**Death Singer Lorelie: **Thank you! I'm glad you like my story so far. In general, I'm pretty anal about spelling and grammatical issues. I've always had been, and I always will be. Ha, ha. Well, enjoy this update!

**iSnuffles: **Thanks! It's alright if you review every chapter. I don't mind. As for the grave-digging situation, that part in the dream really isn't supposed to take place at a certain point of Cain's life. I just needed him to do something at the cemetery. Ha, ha.

**Ritsikas: **Thank you! Here's your update!

**Steel Binding: **Thanks! I'll admit and say that the first chapter wasn't all that great. I just thought that people were going to like it, so i just had to wait and see. After that chapter, I tried my hardest to make the story more interesting. I'm glad that you like it so much. Have I really kept to Cain's character? I was a bit afraid that I was going to do the exact opposite, but according to you and some other people, that apparently isn't the case. Ha, ha. Now, I'm rambling. Whoops. Well, hope you enjoy this update!

**ChildlikeEmpress:** Thank you! Enjoy this update!

* * *

_That clairvoyant...that beautiful woman...the one they call "Meridiana"...Just what is she? She's like a doll...a beautiful mannequin with no emotions...Her gentle waves of flaxen...her eyes like glass beads of blue...And the moment our hands touched..._

_She told me she saw a bright red ram in her vision...and an endless dark labyrinth...as I step over piles of dead bodies while desperately searching for someone. What could that mean? Not only that, but what exactly were those sudden feelings I had when our hands touched...when she suddenly pulled away in fear...when she touched my face with tears in her eyes...?_

_Meridiana...what exactly are you...and what is your connection with that doctor, Jizabel? _

Okay, _what_?

Saturday morning flew by so quickly that if felt as though the past few days were but a mere blur. Today was the day--the day of my trip to the airport with my father. The very beginning to our trip to London.

There I was sitting cross-legged on the center of my bed as I observed the page of Cain's diary in my grasp. The morning sun was rising in the sky, and the rays seeped their radiant glow through the thin curtains that framed my windows. The rays spilled across the page, illuminating it with a somewhat angelic glow.

What I had just read was the only thing written on the page. For the first time since I started reading the diary, I seemed to have found myself rather...confused. This strange beauty, the one named Meridiana who was apparently a psychic, had just made an abrupt appearance...and not only that, it seemed as though she was going to somehow grace Cain's life...if my prediction was correct.

A red ram? An endless dark labyrinth? What did she mean by that? I wonder. I wonder...

Ridding my endless wondering immediately before becoming completely obsessed with it, I flitted my gaze over towards my alarm clock. I was forced to break my unconscious trance of sleep at dawn. I just _had_ to. My father wanted to head for the airport very early so that we would make it to London in a matter of six hours. That way, we could have the time to explore the place on the very first day there.

At the very moment I woke up, I had decided to take a peek at the diary to get through some reading before my father would come barging in and relentlessly shout at me to get ready like he was some kind of drill sergeant. That entry I had finished scanning through left me a bit baffled, yet at the same time, it only sparked my interest and curiosity even more. It was like a double-edged sword; it was both a benefit and a detriment. I wasn't entirely sure why that was...

So really, just don't ask.

I pulled my gaze from the alarm clock and backed towards the page of the diary. Sighing gently, I shut the diary immediately and placed it gingerly on the quilts that made up my bed. I yawned loudly as I rubbed my tired eyes that were struggling to remain open. Could you blame me, though? I had to wake up before the sun had fully risen in the sky. Hell, I didn't even have to wake up that early for _school_, let alone just leaving the _country_ for about two full weeks.

Suddenly, I heard a gentle knock on the door. Usually, the sound of a dog barking was heard over the knocking, but this time, it didn't happen at all. The other night ago, my father figured that it was best to have Priest and Luna stay with his brother, my uncle Jim, since he had volunteered to look after them instead of boarding them off somewhere.

"Yeah, Dad?" I called, scooting towards the very edge of the bed as I eyed the door.

"Oh, good, you're up," he sighed, sounding somewhat relieved over the fact that I was actually awake. "Are you dressed yet?"

I took a minute to look down at my current attire. I was donned in nothing but my baggy red and black checkered pajama pants and a midnight blue tank top. "Nope," I uttered, popping the "P".

I heard him groan forcefully at my reply. Uh-oh. _That_ didn't sound very cheery. "Well, then hurry it up already. Afterwards, you need to call you mother. You haven't forgotten, have you?"

I became silent for a mere moment upon hearing that. Of course. How could I _possibly_ forget anyway? It was about the umpteenth time already that my father had to remind me to call her. But really, what was the point? I'm absolutely serious; what _was_ the _point_?

"Erm, no, Dad, I haven't," I told him, finally deciding to climb out of bed and grab the articles of clothing that were neatly folded together on my suitcase. I dressed hastily and eventually, I was no longer donned in pajamas, but in a pair of ripped jeans that finally fit me and a black hoodie that snug loosely around my waist. "I think I should call Mom now..." I sighed, slipping on my converse and hurried over to my father's room where the wireless phone was resting. I picked up the phone and dialed the number. Holding it against my ear, the somewhat loud purring of the phone ringing starting making its way abusing my eardrums.

"Hello?" a perky and bubbly voice beamed after the fourth ring.

"Erm, Genie?" I questioned, recognizing the voice.

"Yeah, this is she."

"Hey, Genie, it's Aubrey. Is my mom there?"

"Oh, sure, hold on." Then there came silence, but that didn't last for very long. "Pauline! Hey, Pauline! Aubrey's on the phone!" Following that was a light thud, indicating that the phone was lightly set on a hard surface.

The girl I was just conversing with was who I would probably consider as my stepsister Genie. She was the older sister of her brother Daniel, and the daughter of James, the man my mother Pauline married. In case you were wondering, this is not a Cinderella type of deal. In fact, I did not share any bad blood with my stepsiblings or vice versa. We've only seen each other once in a blue moon, but we were completely civilized with one another.

"Hello?" a soft voice kindly answered from the other line.

I hesitated for a bit. "Hey, Mom, it's me."

"Oh, hi, there, sweetie, how are ya?!" she greeted, sounding rather cheerful, especially when it was so earlier in the morning.

"I'm fine, thanks," I answered simply. "Before anything, may I ask why you and Genie are up so early?"

"Oh, Genie and I are going out for an early run. It's good exercise."

"Oh."

"So, you and your father are heading for London today, right?" she suddenly brought up after our brief and awkward conversation.

"Oh, yeah, we are. Just as soon as I'm finish talking to you."

"When will you be back?"

"In about two weeks or so."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

You see? This was partially the reason why I didn't want to call my mother in the first place. Since the divorce, our telephone conversations end up being so awkward and uneasy for the both of us. We would usually surrender to some wretched "small talk". She would ask me how school was going and I would give her a one word reply most of the time. I would ask her how the family was doing and she would do the same exact thing. The two of us rarely had a decent conversation with each other, and the chances of _that_ happening were very slim to none. Those moments usually happened when I came to visit, but even _that_ felt very awkward.

"So, um..." my mother finally started again after a long period of discomforting silence. I remained silent and listened on. "Well, I hope you have fun on your trip, Aubrey."

I nodded my head although I was very well aware that she could not see that gesture. "I will, Mom."

"I love you."

"...Me too, Mom. Bye."

Click.

Thus, the two of us finally ended our brief conversation.

Sighing heavily, I placed the phone back to its original resting place and sauntered my way out of my father's room. "Well," I started, entering my bedroom, "the deed is done..." I began pacing around the room for no apparent reason whatsoever. "Now that _that's_ done and over with, what do I have left to do...? Let's see...I already called Meg yesterday to say goodbye...same with Gram and Gramps...and Auntie...Hm..."

I shrugged, figuring that there wasn't much I needed to do except for getting completely ready for the airport. Before heading for the bathroom to brush my teeth, I took a quick peek at the mirror to check for any minor imperfections that needed to be concealed with the very little makeup I rarely used. In the end, I did not find a trace of anything worth covering up. Throwing my chap stick and charcoal eyeliner in my carry-on bag, I rushed to the bathroom and brushed my pearly whites with haste. As soon as that little task was completely, I placed my toothbrush in a plastic bag and threw it in my carry-on to join the animate object parade.

"Aubrey! Hey, Aubbers! Are you ready yet?" my father called from the main floor of the house.

"Erm, yeah! I'll be right there!" I called back, taking hold of my bag and began rushing my way out of the room, but only to stop suddenly and hurry my way back towards my bed. "Crap! I almost forgot about you!" I huffed, grabbing the diary and tucking it under my arm. I scaled down the vast single flight of stairs to meet up with my father, who was standing by the opened door that allowed the chilled autumn breeze to visit the household.

"Hey, kiddo, didja call your mother yet?" he questioned me, messing with my hair for about the millionth time in my entire life. I nodded in reply as he flashed a toothy grin. "Good, good," he said lightly, chuckling a little afterwards as he lifted both our luggage with his gigantic upper limbs. "Well, let's get going. We don't want to waste any time now, do we?"

I nodded the second time in response as I followed him to the car after setting the alarm and locking our front door. As the breeze lightly tousled my hair, I inhaled the sweet scent of the environment I was going to miss dearly when I reside in London for two weeks. I took one final glace back towards my house before stepping into the car.

* * *

We arrived at the 8:30 flight.

The two of us made haste as we arrived to the airport. Although that was the case, there were no real issues that abruptly intruded on our lives, like the stuff one would see on T.V. Everything went smoothly and on scheduled.

My god, what a boring life I possess...

Back to business. My father and I were sitting in our seats as we waited patiently for the plane to go into motion. I gazed out the window as I frequently tuned in and out of the words spoken by our flight attendant and the clattering of people chatting and whispering amongst themselves. The pilot then spoke over the intercom, though I ignored that too. The only thing I picked up was his final line, "Thank you and enjoy your flight". Before long, the plane went into motion and took flight.

I watched my father yawn loudly as he leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes. "I'm going to take a nap, okay, Aubbers?" he told me through yet another yawn.

I nodded. "Sure." Finally realizing that Cain's diary was resting on my lap the entire time, I decided that it was the perfect opportunity to finally get some more reading done...again. With my mind already set, I lifted the little black book and flipped through every page I read until I reached to a page with unfamiliar words.

_March 18th, 1888_

_So many strange things have been occurring here. Let me start off with the mysterious murder that took place here in London. They say that Jack the Ripper killed a woman near here._

My mind suddenly clicked upon reading that opening. Jack the Ripper. I have heard about him multiple times in my life. I found it a bit funny that he even mentioned it...and not the funny "ha, ha", but rather, the funny "weird". I read on.

_I read about it in the newspaper and apparently, the murder was carried out in the same manner as an earlier incident several years ago. See, what happened was that the murderer strangled the victim and slit her throat. Then he laid the victim's rings at her feet in a ritualistic sort of manner. The paper also mentioned that he must have used a special knife, like a surgeon's scalpel or a butcher's knife. The throat was slit from left to right, indicating that the murderer is left-handed. _

I started feeling light-headed upon reading the text. I had always been rather squeamish, and this was a bit much. However, I struggled to set those uncomfortable feelings aside and continued to read on.

_The murderer seems to have great knowledge of anatomy, pathology, or clinical medicine...considering how he deftly removed the victim's reproductive organs and her other internal organs..._

"Alright! That's enough!" I shouted at the page. Upon realizing that I, in fact, literally shouted, I covered my lips with my hand, feeling the color rush to my cheeks in embarrassment. I received a few stares from fellow passengers, and luckily, my father only shifted in his sleep a little instead of just waking up right there.

I removed my palm from my lips and breathed heavily. I shuddered at the thought of what I had just read_. Sir_, I thought, referring to Cain_, you **will** become the death of me one day... _Even though I was a bit sick to my stomach due to the graphic content written on the page, I continued on, mentally cursing how reckless and idiotic I was.

_I kind of made Oscar sick when I told the story...and it was during breakfast too._

My brow twitched a little upon reading that sentence. _Are you kidding me, Cain...? _I thought, shaking my head in disgust. _Well,_ o_f **course** Oscar was going to feel sick to his stomach. I mean, you were telling that story while everyone was eating! That's not a very charming feature, you know... _I let out a heavy sigh and continued.

_Oscar told me that he was highly sensitive when it comes to blood. Even saying the word made him dizzy. I find that rather strange for someone with a largely built stature. He had a strange bloodstain on his cuff...hm...  
Apparently, Keith, Emeline's other much smaller suitor, fell in love with Meridiana at first sight, and that he was wandering from one party to the next in attempts to find her. In a way, I couldn't blame him. I felt that way about her too. She...was a frighteningly beautiful girl..._

_However, the sensation I got when I touched her hand...it just...struck me more than her beauty did...But what exactly was her connection with that doctor...?_

_Speaking of Meridiana, something just suddenly reminded me of the vision she told me about. Gilford had drawn Mary Weather a picture. It was a childlike drawing. He said, "The ram was red all over. When the man and I were playing hide and seek, Lisa found me". Hm...Meridiana's vision...and Gilford's drawing..._

_And not only that, but Keith had gone missing. Following him was at least four or five other men...just what exactly is going on here?  
__I must get going. Oscar and I are going to search for Meridiana._

And _again_, I will say this again..._What_?

My mind struggled to sum up everything I had read at that moment. So, apparently, this "Jack the Ripper" was going through a killing spree during the time, and Cain had grown some suspicion for Oscar, and Keith went missing after desperately searching for the clairvoyant Meridiana...and the drawing.

"Gah, this is just _way_ too confusing," I whined, banged the back of my head on the seat. "Good lord, Cain, please don't confuse me..."

Wow. Just wow. Take a gander at the kind of person I was. For pete's sake, I was talking to a diary that belonged to a now dead man! It was the most absurd concept. Does it make me pathetic? Probably. Probably not. I don't know, nor do I even care...

Sighing, I slouched back against the seat and flutter my eyelids shut, patiently waiting to finally be swept away to dreamland. Might as well, since it was going to be a long ride...

* * *

**_The instant my eyes shot open, I just knew that I was no longer on the plane, but rather, on top of the first step that lead to a dark and mysterious labyrinth just down the stairs. I flitted my gaze around, realizing that my back was facing a closed wooden door. Lit torches that hung against the wet walls dimmed gently in the darkness, enhancing my already restricted vision. _**

**_"Wh-what the--?" I gasped, moving my body around in panic. "Where the heck am I? How did I get here? How--?"_**

**_My wondering out loud came to an abrupt close when my eyes fixated onto the figure that stood a good ten to fifteen-odd steps before me. That lovely deep brown hair...the blackened coat and mask...those enticing eyes...Could it be...? "C-Cain?" I stuttered, unable to grasp any words to say other than his name._**

**_He didn't respond. Instead, he started making his way down the steps, obviously not acknowledging my existence. I grumbled a bit in frustration, somewhat infuriated that he was deliberately ignoring me. Being possibly the real life little Alice who was always sparked with curiosity, I decided to follow him down the steps into the grim maze. Strange, though. I could've sworn I was just on the plane with my father sleeping soundly at my side, and then all of a sudden, I was following a mysterious man--who I believed to actually be Cain himself--into a dark labyrinth. _**

**_How very strange. _**

**_The steps seemed to have been going on forever. It was making me slightly tired, but that didn't stop me. I still continued my way of following the man--no, wait, I'm just going to dub him as "Cain"--who still acted as though he was completely unaware of my presence. I could not take the silence any longer. The lack of sound and conversation was practically killing me. If anyone had to speak up, it was obviously going to me...Yeah, kind of out of character, I know... "Um..." I started, hoping to get his attention. He, however, didn't cease his walking and didn't respond. I continued. "Wh-where are we? H-how did I--?" _**

**_My sentence was cut short once again. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I stopped walking and clutched onto my sweater, but released it the moment I felt something wet and sticky lingering on my pale palm and fingers. I hesitantly pulled my hand from my chest, and to my horror, my entire palm was painted in a deep shade of crimson..._**

**_Blood. It was my own blood._**

**_I cringed in pain. I shuddered in fear. I weakly fell on my knees, gripping onto my already blood-soaked chest as I writhed in pain. At that moment, "Cain" finally turned towards me. His enticing golden-green eyes widen in shock. I let out a blood-curtailing screamed as I weakly reached out for him. Before he had the chance to actually respond to my cry for help, a figure--no--a shadow of a man stood before me, holding up what I had detected was an ax over his head. The ax came down in slow motion, aiming for my exposed and unprotected shoulder. Pain throbbed in that area as blood splattered from my wound that etched my fair skin._**

**_My scream echoed throughout the labyrinth, providing the shrill sounds of a howl of pain..._**

* * *

"Aubrey?! Aubrey! Wake up, baby!"

My eyes shot open at the very moment I heard my father's voice calling me. I looked at his now pale face as he gaped at me with shock and confusion. I blinked and stared at him as though nothing had happened. "Oh, hey, Dad," I began rather calmly, though deep down, I was still feeling troubled due to the horrific nightmare.

"Aubrey, you were screaming in your sleep! Are you alright?" he questioned me with concern hinting in his voice. My dear father; how I loved that you were so concerned for me.

I rubbed my tired eyes, obviously still a bit out of it. "Erm, yeah, I'm fine, Dad. It was only a nightmare," I assured.

He gave me a skeptical look. "You've been having a lot of nightmares recently. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, honest." Then I noticed something, something that felt a little...different. "Erm, Dad, why isn't the plane moving?" I asked. I then looked over my father's broad shoulders and spotted the passengers making their way out of the plane.

"We're here," Dad told me with a soft smile. "I guess taking a nap was worth it, no?"

I didn't respond as we proceeded in following the other passengers off the plane. So, my father and I finally made it to the town of London, where a new adventure awaits us for the next two weeks. There wasn't going to be any stress, any annoyance, nothing. Just good ol' wholesome fun between father and daughter on vacation. Absolutely no worries whatsoever.

But what about the nightmares? Would the bizarre nightmares ever end...?

**(A/N: Ahh! I'm so sorry I took forever to update this story! I've been terribly busy as always. Plus, this isn't exactly my best chapter. I was kind of rushing it, but I promise for a better chapter in the next update. Do forgive me. -bows- So, it looks as though Aubrey and her father have finally made it to London! N****ot to mentioned I've added some more entries in Cain's diary. Those are the good parts! **

**Well again, I apologize for the long wait and over the fact that this chapter isn't really up to par. I promise for a better update. Well, bye for now! Read and review, everyone!)**

**Twilight-to-Nightfall**


	6. Arrival, Pleasant Greetings and an Entry

Chapter 6

Arrival, Pleasent Greetings, and a Disturbed Diary Entry

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(A/N: Hello! Sorry it took me a bit to update. Almost four months. My sincerest apologies. This summer has been crazy as hell, from busy June, to somewhat work-filled July, and to ConnectiCon for an awesome weekend. Plus, serious writer's block got in the way. Well, I have returned from the fiery depths of Hell (haha!) and finally have chapter 6 up! Hope you all enjoy.)

_**For those of you who reviewed...**_

**13thhourbells: **Hey, it's cool. I have the tendency to think too much as well. It's a sign of intelligence. At least _I_ think so. Ha, ha. As for Aubrey's relationship with her mother, I honestly haven't really thought about whether it was going to improve or not. That whole matter is just some unnecessary filler. Maybe I really _should_ think about it. Heh, heh. As for whether or not the family is still alive or not, I'm not going to say, but I have thought about it at one point of my life. Well, anyway, thanks for the review!

**KageMori: **Thanks! Here's your update!

**Lord Makura: **Ha, ha, I'm not saying whether she is or not. But you'll find out soon enough!

**Lilith13Genesis: **Thanks! And thank you for that bit of information. I just went with what my manga said. It could be a typo. I dunno. Ha, ha. Well, enjoy your update!

**Ryle Culler: **Thank you! I must say that I'm pretty pleased with my writing style compared to how it was a few years back. Major improvement indeed. Hope you like this chapter!

**Kuda-Kitsune (for chapter 4**): Thank you very much! Hope you enjoy this update!

**werewolves are love**.: Ha, ha. Okay, here's your update!

**AkitoTsubaki (for chapter 1)**: Thanks for that bit of information. It seems as though I learn something every day. Ha, ha. But year, I predicted that The Cain Saga/Godchild took place somewhere in the late 1800s. It's a good think the date was close. Well, anyhoo, here's your update!

**Analu-san: **Hiyas! And thank you! You're among the many who have told me that I kept Cain in character, which is a really good thing! Having him out of character was something that I had feared while writing this. I'm glad I'm staying true to his character. I'm glad you like this story! And no sweat, your English is perfectly fine. :D

**Ritsikas: **Yikes! That sounds terrifying! I hate nightmares like those. They freak me out. And thank you. :D

**Xandochu: **Thanks! I'm glad you like it so far! Here's your update!

**Tempi-chan (for chapters 1-3): **Thank you! I just have to say I'm relieved my writing style has improved. I wasn't intending Aubrey to be similar to Bella from Twilight. I'm not entirely sure if that's a good think or not. I hope to god it isn't. I'm not exactly Bella's biggest fan if you catch my drift...Ha, ha. Well, here's your update.

**Jay Kamiya: **Thank you. I'm glad you like the story so far. Enjoy this update!

**tanya: **Ha, ha, _maybe_...And yup! They're at London! Here's your update!

**SapphireCuatro: **Thank you. And sorry for not updating soon. Writer's block is a killer.

**Riki-Tiki-Tabby (for chapter 3): **Thanks! I'm glad you like my story. And don't worry about not reviewing it. I haven't updated in the longest time, so if anything, _I_ should be the one to apologize. Heh. Well, hope you enjoy this chapter!

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"Well, here we are. Welcome to London, Aubrey."

As my father said that the minute we finally ceased with shoving through the crowd to exit from the plane, I just stood there dazed and in awe at the surroundings around me. Skyscraping buildings of both the modern and a stunning gothic structure stood tall and strong in the vast city. Even from afar, I was still able to detect the famous "Big Ben" that stood proudly in its place as though mocking every sight around it with its beautified glory.

My long wait for this day had finally come, and any sort of doubt or concern that spiraled my thoughts for the past few weeks had ebbed. I didn't have to worry about a single thing, not for the next two weeks. No uncalled-for obstacles to face. No unwanted stress to deal with. No unnecessary worries and doubts to pull my self-esteem down.

I was in London, a whole other city in a whole other country, and Dad and I were going to have one hell of an adventure. I could already sense it.

I suddenly snapped out of my state of awe when I felt my father's hand on my shoulder. I snapped my head back to face his toothy grin. "Come on, kiddo. We're meeting Lucas in about an hour so we might as well drop our things off at the hotel."

I cocked a brow at his reply. _Lucas?_ I thought, pondering over the name my father stated. My mind sudden clicked as I finally remembered, thus relaxing the brow that had risen from before. _Oh, right. Dad's friend. Kick ass name, though... _

This time, it was my father's turn to cock up an eyebrow. "You alright, kiddo? You were kinda giving me a weird look just now?" he asked. I guess he caught the look on my face when I didn't realize who Lucas was.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Dad," I replied with a bubbly chuckle, clutching onto the handle of my ebony suitcase tighter in my grasp. "So, what hotel are we staying at?" I wondered with a tiny hint of excitement hinting in my voice. "Ooh! Ooh! Are we staying at the Grosvenor Kensington Hotel?! The--?!"

"Uh...no..." he replied, slowly dragging the "uh" to the "no". "Those hotels are _a little_ too pristine--"

"Isn't that usually a _good_ thing, Dad?" I cut in, contradicting him a little.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it upon thinking over my pointing out the contradiction he had made. "Ah..." he gasped. "Touché. Well, those hotels are a little too expensive, so why stay at a place you can't even afford?"

I shrugged as a giggle threatened to escape my lips. My grip on the tattered diary tightened. "Whatever, we'll still have an awesome time here."

My father let out a light laugh. "Heh, heh, of course, baby, but uh..." He smirked a little as he eyed the diary in my grasp. "You don't plan on reading that thing the _entire time_, do ya? I mean, there's always sight seeing with Lucas and--"

"Of course not, Dad," I assured him, flashing him a grin. I lifted the suitcase off the ground and pointed out towards the series of skyscraping buildings. "So, shall we mosey on down to the hotel?"

My father grinned again. "Yeah," he replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "Let's go."

And so, I proceeded with following my father to our destination. Along the way, we had to squeeze through the surprisingly crowded sidewalk in attempts to get by quicker. Because he thought that walking all the way to the hotel was just plain and flat out troublesome, my father decided to call for a taxi, since he believed that it would make our lives "a hell of a lot easier". He tried several attempts, but with no luck, until he finally was able to catch a taxi whose driver wasn't so busy ignoring us. I observed the outside world through the window as my father chatted away with the driver about our trip and many other things I seemed to tune out during the drive.

It didn't take very long for the taxi to reach to our hotel. I have to admit; the building was quite a piece of work. It was a tall building of a modern structure rather than the gothic style that I had admired only slightly more. I followed my father to the front desk to check in, but only to escalate to a few or so stories up until we reached to the correct floor. We wandered through the long and narrow hallway that led to the last door to the left at the very end of the hall.

I was under the impression that the room was going to be comfortable and well refined, much like many hotel rooms I've encountered. Of course, my prediction was correct. The room as a whole was pretty plain looking and normal, and not at all too fancy or too, well, "cheap-looking". It gave off a somewhat welcoming scent of lemon-scented furniture cleaner and fresh paint from the solid pasty walls. The arrangement of the furniture was pretty common among many rooms. Two well-sized beds with quilts of burgundy stood far apart from each other, though they both stood before a tall wooden dresser with a small television set on top of it. Several doors were set up in the room, which included a door to the bathroom, and closet, and of course, the door to enter and exit the room.

The somewhat welcoming scent beckoned me in as I felt my father pass me. "Nice, isn't it?" he grinned, throwing his luggage on the bed he seemed to claim as his. "I imagine that all the other rooms are like this," he babbled on as he actually pulled out his neatly folded clothes and laid them out on his bed. "Lucas sure has great taste in hotels."

_So, it was __**Lucas **__who decided to pick a hotel for us... _I assumed in thought, mirroring my father's actions by throwing my bag on the only empty bed and pulling out my clothes as well. I neatly lined my folded clothes along the edge of the bed as I sighed. "So, Dad, what are we going to be doing for the rest of the day, huh?" I questioned him, suddenly plopping onto the bed. I crossed my legs as I laid the diary on my lap. Before I even had the chance to open it, Dad suddenly grabbed it out of my hands. I made a face. "Dad, what the hell?" I started, my mouth agape.

"You can read _later_," he told me in a playful mocking tone. "Right now, we have to meet up with Lucas at the lobby. We're going to have lunch together."

I pouted mentally, but decided that it was best to just give in. My father did have a legitimate reason to snatch the diary from my hands and forbidding me to read any further at the moment. He wanted to spend as much time exploring London as humanly possible with his daughter and friend, so in a way, I couldn't exactly blame him.

Though I made a mental note to myself to commence with reading the moment we head back for the hotel.

I huffed gently. "Alright, alright, but do I have to dress a certain way?" I asked him, looking down at my current attire. If we were heading for some fancy-shmancy restaurant, then there was absolutely no way ripped jeans and a black hoodie would be anywhere near acceptable.

My father placed his hand beneath his chin, scrutinizing each and every detail of my clothes with his eyes. "Well..." he started slowly.

_Oh, boy, here it comes... _I thought bleakly.

"Luke told me we were just going to stop at a Subway to grab some sandwiches and stuff, so no, I don't think changing out of your clothes is very necessary at the moment."

...Okay, somehow, I was not expecting _that_ kind of answer...

But whatever. At least I didn't have to get changed.

Before very long, my father and I set off to the lobby where we would meet the man who would be dubbed as "our own personal tour guide". After going down a few or so floors, we headed for the lobby. There, I caught sight of someone standing there while swaying back and forth on the soles of what I would've expected were his well-polished loafers that matched well with his perfectly ironed business suit.

Strangely enough, my expectations failed to be presented for the time being.

The man in the lobby did not look like an astonishingly well-kempt gentleman. It was barely anything like that at all. He looked very...average from head to toe, like my father and me. Even though his blonde hair was slicked back in a "well-refined" manner, his choice of clothing didn't necessarily fit the image many people would assume appropriate for someone like him.

He wasn't donned in a nice suit that came straight from the dry cleaners like I thought he would. Instead, he wore a plain black T-shirt with some sort of logo illustrated in the middle. The shirt itself was a little big for a body as lanky as his, so it wasn't a surprise that it would slightly hang loosely over the hem of his dark gray jeans. He continuously swayed to and fro on the soles of his new sneakers.

Putting the clothing analysis aside, I finally took the time to catch of glimpse of his face. He actually wasn't a bad looking guy. He appeared to be in his early or mid thirties, definitely younger than my father. His complexion looked smooth and positively flawless, olive skinned, if I may add. He had such lovely pale blue eyes that scanned around the lobby, looking almost mystified and possibly oblivious over the realization that my father and I had arrived at his presence.

I dared not to speak up to catch his attention, for I had always feared for the awkwardness that would arise from it all. Instead, I turned to my father, who was giving the lanky fellow a look, obviously amused by this. He finally took the chance to speak up. "Luke! Over here!" he called, waving his arm in the air.

The man, who was proven to me that he was, in fact, Lucas, turned his head until he faced my father and me. He flashed us a wide, toothy grin. "Hey! Took you long enough, eh, Carl?" he called back, clear enough for me to detect the heavy accent in his voice, as he slowly made his way towards us.

My father chuckled sheepishly. "Sorry, but Aubbers and I had to go through a bit to get here," he explained.

"Huh? 'Aubbers'? What do you--? Oh, hello, there." Being at least six inches to a foot taller than me, Lucas looked down and flashed me a soft smile. "I haven't seen you since you were ye high," he said, placing his hand by his thigh.

I raised a brow, since I was obviously baffled by what he had just told me. "Huh?" I managed to utter slowly, confused as ever.

My father chuckled. "Aubrey, you've met Luke before," he explained. "You were, I think, five or six years old at the time. It was during that huge cookout your mother hosted, and Luke here was invited. I can't really blame you, though. You were young, and you've only met him once."

I thought for a moment, but my mind went totally blank. Although the smiling man standing in front of me did indeed have a familiar face, I just couldn't remember a single thing about him. Perhaps my father was right after all and that I really _was _far too young when I first "met" him. It didn't matter much to me at that point. It was like I was just meeting someone for the very first time, and I usually had absolutely no objections to that. _Usually_.

I took the opportunity to raise my hand towards Lucas. "Well," I began with a small smile, "I may not remember you much, so, uh, yeah, nice to meet you."

He chuckled lightly as he grabbed my hand and shook it. "Likewise, m'dear." He broke the greeting gesture before clasping his hands together. "So, shall we mosey on down to Subway? It's very close by and it hasn't snowed in days since the weather has gotten slightly warmer, so we could just walk there."

I heard my father groan slightly under his breath. He wasn't a big fan of walking, and he wasn't exactly what anyone could call "physically fit", at least not since he married my mother. I, on the other hand, did not object in any way to Luke's suggestion, since I had absolutely no problem with walking.

Just like Luke told my father and me, it actually really wasn't that bad out outside. I did see some small, unnoticeable flakes floating down occasionally throughout our walk, but overall, it was actually quite a pleasant experience. The Subway there pleased me for not only their cleanliness, but also how deliciously well prepared their sandwiches were. It definitely owned the crap-job of a Subway back home, where I was too scared to even walk through the door.

It was an enjoyable experience. Even after we had completely digested our food, we pretty much sat there at the small table by the window for a few hours as Luke elaborated a bit more on what exactly we were going to do for the next two weeks. He pretty much explained that he was going to introduce London to us, and we'll have our occasional "off days" where we could wander around the city and shop.

Luke's plans had processed into my father's mind while my own would drift from time to time. As the two chatted, I merely gazed out the window, daydreaming and admiring the city from afar. It was such a...beautiful sight, much more pleasing to the eyes than my boring little town. I felt somehow relieved to be away from home, content that I was in a different world, like I had just suddenly drifted away from my daily life like a dream...

Not too long afterwards, Dad had to literally shake me to snap out of my daydreaming. We left the restaurant and parted ways with Luke once we were outside. "Okay, Aubrey, this is basically Lucas' plan for tomorrow," my father explained as we strolled along the sidewalk to head back towards the hotel. "He was telling me that he was going to give us a tour around some of the sights here in London, you know, kinda like Big Ben or something. That'll be fun, won't it?"

"Of course," I shrugged, smiling slightly. "I like it here, and I certainly wouldn't mind learning a bit more about this place."

He ruffled with my hair like always. "Good, good. Nice to hear that."

We had some occasional "small talk" as we reached to the hotel and eventually made it to our room. Dad told me that we were just going to relax for the rest of the day. As expected, Dad was planning on watching some T.V., but not before heading for the bathroom to shower and change into more comfortable attire. I figured that it would be the perfect time to commence with reading.

As my father showered in the bathroom, I sat on my bed and pulled the diary from its resting place in my bag. I flipped through the pages that I had already read previously until I reached to a whole new page.

_March 20th, 1888_

_So many things...so many unexpected turn of events have occurred so suddenly...For instance, I...just found out about something...something about Meridiana. Emeline, being the insufferable one she was, joined me in search for her. What we had discovered was something so unspeakably...disturbing._

_About six months ago, she was struck by a horse carriage in the city. She was only sixteen years old. She died that day...I didn't know what to think when I heard that from her very own mother. If what she had said was, in fact, the truth, then how was it possible that I have seen Meridiana...in the flesh?_

_What does it mean? If she's involved with Disraeli, then I could only assume that she isn't an ordinary girl. I wonder...is it possible that Delilah, the mysterious society that he is a part of, is able to revive the dead? I'm not even sure if it really is possible...Her fingers, skin, and lips...they were warm...as though she was alive. _

_I just had to find out the truth, so Riff and I went over to the cemetery to dig up her grave...and what I saw...it just didn't make any sense...Meridiana's body...it...it rested in the coffin. I don't understand...How can it be possible? Perhaps this matter needs further investigation._

_And as if things couldn't get worse, it did. Emeline...was murdered. I assumed she wanted to follow Riff and me that night. Unfortunately, it just had to end for her in the worst way possible. Not only is my mind filled with confusion, but it is also clouded with guilt. I...enjoyed seeing her getting frustrated over my lack of attention...and I just kept toying with her. Perhaps...it was my fault that she had pushed herself too hard. I was well aware of her feelings for me, but I kept ignoring her. Oscar wasn't too pleased with me. His anger had almost led him to punch me..if it weren't for Riff, that is. _

_The funeral wasn't exactly easy...and it was at that moment when I resented Emeline's parents much more than ever. They had shown absolutely no hurt or sorrow for what had happened to their daughter. They suggested that a marriage between Gilford and Mary Weather should be arranged. I refused, of course. All they care for is their family's reputation. It's a fact. That explains their behavior over their own daughter's death...and had her believe that she was ugly when she was a child...not to mention they had locked Gilford into the basement instead of taking him to a hospital. _

_They valued their children to the extent to which they could help enhance the family reputation...but if they couldn't meet those expectations, then they would be abandoned...by their very own parents. I'd rather die than to offer my sister to devils like them. _

_...It's...been a very long day...well...few days, to be more literal. However, before I end this entry, I would like to point out something that kind of bothered me a little. It's about Gilford. He was acting rather strange earlier today...After my quarrel with the Lauderdales, I found Gilford...sort of. He was under the guise of his puppet Mr. Punch. When I asked him to come pray for Emeline, he gloated over her death. He was happy, and I couldn't understand why. When I tried to confront him, he got away, and I ended up having my finger pricked by a needle hidden in the puppet. The last words he had spoken to me were, "'Red ram' is a magic curse! You've forgotten all about it!"_

_What could this mean?_

And that was all.

Upon skimming through the final paragraph for the second or third time, I carefully shut the little black book and hid it in my bag once again. As a slight headache started to slowly kick in, I sluggishly rested my forehead on my knuckles. "Well," I muttered to myself, gasping groans of slight pain from the headache from time to time, "that was a rather...disturbing little entry. But I wonder..."

Everything written in that one entry, every word that belonged to Cain...they baffled me, as though I was reading a bunch of riddles rather than a diary. "It just doesn't make any sense...It's humanly impossible to revive the dead...isn't it? I wonder what really happened to Emeline...and what about Gilford? I don't have any brothers or sisters...well..._biologically_ speaking, of course, but normally, one would get upset over their sibling's death...so...why was he so..._thrilled_?"

My pondering aloud had to come to an unfortunate end when I no longer heard the shower running. I reached for the television remote on the wooden nightstand beside me and flicked through channel to channel, in high attempts to find something decent to watch. I remained sitting there, countlessly flicking through the channels, until my father finally stepped out of the bathroom donned in navy blue sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt.

I saw him smirk from the corner of my eye, so I assumed that he was a bit amused by my current actions. "You're going to have to pick a channel _sometime_, Aubbers," he snickered playfully, approaching me and snatching the remote from my hand.

"Sorry," I said with a slight shrug, watching him click the buttons on the remote several hundred times. "But you can watch whatever you want. Sports, Sci-Fi, whatever." I rummaged through my bag in search for something to do. "I'm going to do something else."

"Let me guess, you're going to read, right?" he assumed, refusing to pull his gaze from the television.

"Nah, I already did that today." I pulled out my black, slightly battered Nintendo DS and turned it on. "I'm going to play some Phoenix Wright. It's been forever since I've played it."

My father nodded in response. "You do that," he replied, finally ending his clicking episode when he finally reached to the sports channel.

What a day it was. My father and I had finally arrived to London, we met with Lucas and had lunch together, and now we were going to relax for the rest of the night until the next day, when Lucas will show us around the city. Everything went smoothly, according to plan, if I may say so myself.

However, the only thing that had left a bit of a disturbance for the day was that entry I had read in the diary. Sure, I had read about stuff like that before in stories and such, but this time, it was just so mind baffling. The unexpected and the impossible had actually happened in real life, back in the late 1800s too. I was just as confused as Cain was. Can one _really_ revive the dead? If so, then how is it possible? What _really _happened to Emeline? How did she die? Also, what in the world is going on in the mind of Gilford, who had lost his older sister and had shown absolutely no remorse whatsoever?

For some abnormal reason, I had a gut feeling that I was going to find out more about those matters by not just reading the diary alone.

Why? Why was that?

**(A/N: Ooooookay. Chapter 6 is finally done at long last. A thousand apologies for everyone who had been waiting ever so patiently for an update. I feel very guilty. So chapter 6 is done. I wasn't entirely sure how to end it properly. I'm at college now and I have to leave for home in about ten minutes, so I wanted to finish the chapter right now, because I'm going to be extremely busy for the rest of the day.**

**Well, anyway, about the next chapter. I believe it'll be the chapter were things start to really heat up. I'll see what I can do. I hope this chapter wasn't too much of a disappointment. I'll try to update as soon as possible, and hopefully a lot quicker than this time. And I'll try to improve for the next chapter, because I didn't think this chapter was my best.**

**Oh, yes, with the section on Cain's diary, I tried to put it in my own words as best as I could, but some of the stuff is credited by Kaori Yuki-san herself. **

**Well, hope you all liked this chapter, everyone! Sorry for the delay!)**

**Twilight-to-Nightfall**


	7. Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 7

Down the Rabbit Hole

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(A/N: Good day, everyone! I'm back with the update of _Tattered Pages_! Sorry it took me a bit to update the last chapter. And I deeply apologize for the long wait for this one...Writer's block and the lack of time is to blame. Geez, about a year too. I really screwed that up...As stated in the author's note at the end of the last chapter, this will be the chapter where things start to really heat up. Even though this has to be the best fanfiction I have ever written, it's been a bit boring for me, but that's going to change! I still find it exciting how so many people have taken a liking of this story. Thanks guys!

By the way, long chapter is long. xD**  
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_**For those of you who reviewed chapter 6...**_

**ChildlikeEmpress: **Yup! New chapter! And thank you!

**Ritsikas: **Aw...I'm still here. :) Yeah, sorry about the delay of updating the previous chapter. I've been busy. Man, working on three stories is a real killer. Ha, ha. Well, here's your update!

**Lord Makura: **I hope this chapter catches your interest! And thanks for the review!

**13thhourbells: **Heh, yeah sorry about taking forever to update the previous chapter. Ah, so you finished Godchild. That's good! Well, it's not as though Aubrey has a bad relationship with her mother, but yeah, I agree that Augusta is worse in comparison. And yup. A headache. Ha, ha!

**Analu-san: **Thank you very much! Here's your update! Hope you enjoy it.

**felix fangirl and paul fangirl: **Thanks! Here's your update!

**tanya: **Thanks! At first, I really didn't know what to do about Luke. Heck, I couldn't even think of what to name the guy! And I have finally given Aubrey's father a name! Ha, ha. I figured that making him this sophisticated-looking gentleman would be a little too cliched. I figured I should try and do something a bit different with his appearance, you know, something that one really couldn't expect. But I really like Luke like this. It's pretty neat. :)

**XxVampireMistressxX: **Thank you very very much for the review! I'm glad you like this story so much. Enjoy this update!

**randomchik: **Thank you very much! I'm extremely flattered. As for your questions, I cannot answer them. You'll find out soon enough! Hee, hee. I also felt flattered when you mentioned that you could relate to a character I have created. :] And yes, life can be dull sometimes, but it doesn't always have to be. Hee.

**Aurora Hargreaves: **Oh, thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying this story so far. Here's your update!

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"Aubrey...."

Darkness. Warmth. Tranquility.

"Aubrey....Aubrey! Oh, for Pete's sake!"

I felt a familiar hand on my shoulder as I was being shook gently. Although I saw nothing but darkness due to the fact that my eyelids remained over my eyes, I had already known the person responsible for the interruption of my peaceful state. However, I refrained from doing anything but grimace and groan slightly as I lazily cuddled against the bed sheets that provided me warmth and turned my body over.

However, it didn't take much thought to come to the conclusion that my father wasn't too pleased with my actions at the very least. I heard him grunt and felt him firmly grip the sheets wrapped around my body. He yanked on the sheets roughly, and because I was entangled in them, his action had caused me to plummet violently to the floor. My head shot up, my face flushed with irritation, only to find my father, who was fully dressed and ready to go, grinning down at me.

"_That _outta wake ya!" he chuckled teasingly through his pearly whites. At least _someone _was in a good mood that morning.... "Rise and shine!"

I let out a low and frustrated grunt while I struggled to lift myself off the floor. "Yeah, yeah..." I grumbled, giving up my attempt to stand and sat on the sheets that had tumbled on the floor with me. A loud yawn escaped my lips as I gently rubbed my slightly tear-filled, bloodshot eyes with my knuckles.

I took the time to examine the room. The room wasn't completely dark, but judging by the lack of iridescent sunlight even through the lightweight curtains that framed the single large window, one could easily deduct the conclusion that the crack of dawn didn't take place too long ago. I peeled my gaze from the details of the room and glanced up at my father, who patted my head and sluggishly moved towards the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"Okay, Dad, I'd like a valid explanation as to why you've decided to wake me up far too early in the morning, but please, be reasonable...." I insisted through the sound of running water as I fumbled with the soft fabric of the bed sheets.

"Looks like _someone _has a passion for speaking in sentences with a use of her extended vocabulary. Well done," he muffled in a mocking laughter through the toothbrush and paste in his mouth_. _"I talked to Luke during lunch yesterday, and do you remember him saying that he was going to show us around London like our own personal tour guide?"

"Um...I think so?" My memory was a bit fuzzy, most likely due to the fact that it was morning and that I was barely paying attention to my father's conversation with Luke during lunch the other day.

He spat in the sink and proceeded with his brushing. "Well," he began, his voice still muffled to the point where I could barely decipher what he was saying, "he and I agreed that our tour is going to start today." He paused for a moment as he rinsed his mouth. "Remember, Aubbers, as they say, the early bird catches the worm!"

"Uh...Dad, I'm not sure if the use of that expression bears any relevance to this...." I told him. I tossed the sheets aside and stood up. I headed towards the bathroom door and shut it so that I could get dressed without my father present in the same room. "I'll let you know when I'm decent so that you can get out of there," I called, going through the dresser for various articles of clothing.

"Sure thing, kiddo," he replied from the bathroom as I stripped down to my undergarments. "It's a good thing you're not high maintenance...otherwise, I'd be in here for a very long time..."

I chuckled in amusement as I wriggled into a pair of dark blue jeans. "I suppose so," I shrugged, throwing on a white button-up blouse that was about a size or two too big and a pair of black and white striped cotton gloves that were cut off along the middle of my fingers. I headed for the mirror to brush my hair to get rid of unwanted rats nests that might have formed while I was sleeping.

"Still, it really wouldn't hurt to at least _try_ to be like other girls," my father suddenly brought up.

I didn't bother commenting back right away as I set my brush down after doing away with the knots in my hair. "But then I wouldn't be so special," I laughed. "By the way, you can get out now."

With that said, my father finally opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. "Ready to go?" he asked, slapping my shoulder as he grabbed his brown blazer that lay sprawled on his bed.

"I guess," I shrugged, lazily pulling my black jacket from the hanger in the closet and throwing it over my shoulders. "So where are we meeting Luke? In the lobby like yesterday?"

"Yup," he replied tediously, opening the door to leave as I followed behind, but not before shoving the diary and other necessities in my bag. We reached the lobby shortly after leaving our room where we found Luke sitting on a petite sofa that stood by a rather large window. He was surprisingly dressed in a navy blue button-up shirt along with a pair of jeans and new sneakers. He wasn't dressed completely formal, but it was an improvement from yesterday.

Flashing a toothy smile, he raised his hand in a welcoming gesture. "Mornin', you two," he greeted, lazily getting off the couch and moving toward my father and me.

"Mornin', Luke," my father grinned before glancing at me as I gave out a loud and exhausted yawn.

Luke obviously seemed to find my current state amusing due to that smirk on his face. "Sorry your old man had to wake you up so early," he chuckled, patting my shoulder.

I shrugged in response. "It's cool. Blame me, actually, for not really being the morning type of person..."

"Heh, you and I both," Luke said. "It was actually your pop's idea to start the day early. If it were up to me, I would've slept in until close to twelve in the afternoon!"

I let out an exasperated sigh. Of course. It was so like my dad to come up with a time slot like that. He had always been the type to plan things out as early as possible. Not that it was a _completely _bad thing, though. It was a trait that was somewhat opposite of my mom's since the only time she would ever plan things out was when it was completely necessary...though, I don't recall going out for an early run with one's stepdaughter all that necessary....

"So!" I began, trying my very best to be as chipper as possible, even in the morning. "What are we gonna do first?"

"_That's_ the spirit, Aubbers!" my father exclaimed happily in a hearty chuckle as he slapped my shoulder.

Luke's laughter followed up afterward. "Well, we can start off by wandering around the city for a bit," he suggested. "We don't have to do any sight-seeing right away. Think of this as a little warm-up, as a way to get the feel of this place."

* * *

"No way, there's a bookstore across the street!" I chirped in tremendous excitement, pointing to the small bricked building that stood between two other buildings that seemed to tower over it.

Due to the slight coldness of the weather and walking around the city, I finally snapped out of my languid state of mind and was fully awake and aware of my surroundings. With Lucas leading the way, we came across various restaurants and antique shops along with a copious amount of old buildings of the Victorian architecture. In comparison, the shops and antique stores hadn't graced me with the same amount of fascination as the old buildings did. So much history behind them....

When I spotted the little bookstore, I tugged my father's sleeve as I did during my innocent childhood years with a bright smile on my face. "We should take a pit stop there!" I proposed. "I'm sure they have a Starbucks in there and--!"

"Now, Aubrey, we have plenty of time to go book shopping when we get home, but right now, wouldn't you rather check this city out?" Dad asked.

"Why, Aubrey, I didn't know you were fond of reading," Luke said with a smile.

I nodded. "Mhmm. I've always have."

"Erm, if I may interrupt, we should probably continue the tour..." my father cut in with slight annoyance in his voice.

Luke's pair of pale blue eyes shifted from mine to my father's, flashing him a sheepish smile. "Erm, yes," He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his blonde head of hair, which wasn't slicked back like the day before, but rather, slightly messy. "Shall we?" He began walking ahead as Dad and I followed, only to stop when we found Luke looking over various buildings.

Dad was baffled by this behavior. "Hey, Luke, what's the deal?" he questioned in confusion.

With a smirk, Luke gestured us to approach him. My father and I looked at each other confused, and then headed towards him. He placed an arm around my shoulder and the other around my father's, and using that arm, he pointed to the area that was shown between the gaps of several buildings. "You see over there?" he asked Dad and me with enthusiasm playing in his voice.

Curious, I squinted and peered to the direction. What caught my eye first was a rather tall bell tower that probably stood a bit over 300 feet high. The structure of the tower was positively breathtaking with its old gothic style. Beneath the rays of the sun that shyly peeked through the clouds, the fine piece of work was showered in a gorgeous golden tint. I was finally able to recognize what made the tower so special when I spotted the clock on it. If I didn't think the tower was actually Big Ben, I believed there would've something wrong with me.

My father caught on. "Well, what do you know..." he whispered in awe. "We finally get a closer view of Big Ben. Never thought I'd see the day."

A smile played Luke's lips. "Yep. Quite a sight, isn't it? A hundred and fifty years and still standing strong." He then pointed to the stunning-looking castle that stood beside the clock tower. "And that's the Palace of Westminster. It's where the two Houses of the Parliament of the United Kingdom meet. It caught fire during the early nineteenth century, but with time, it got rebuilt."

"Oh, wow, I didn't know about that..." Dad commented.

"Neither did I. The more you know, I guess..." I replied. I pulled my gaze from the gorgeous sight and faced Lucas. "Hey, are you going to take us there? I'm very interested in checking that area out."

"I'm with Aubrey on that one, let's check it out!" Dad agreed in excitement.

Luke chuckled at our enthusiasm. "Look at you. You're both like little children. But that's a good thing, though, right?" He kept his arms around our shoulders. "So, shall we head on over there?"

With a wide and cheerful grin, I shot my fist in the air. "Alright! Something interesting!"

With that, the three of us headed for that direction. Luke figured that since it would require too much walking to take the main road, he decided to maneuver his way to our point of destination by taking various shortcuts he was familiar with through back alleys and other such means. Of course, he was only human to make one simple mistake when he accidentally led us to an alley that was completely blocked off. He regained his sense of direction again when he finally remembered which shortcut to take.

We were heading closer and closer to the desired section when something else had caught my eye. Normally, such things wouldn't catch my attention so easily merely because I didn't care, but for some unexplained reason that I truly could not fathom, I felt a tug inside of me, which was a feeling I couldn't remember experiencing ever before.

Much like many of the other buildings I had come across during this trip, this particular building was hardly modern-built at all. It was much like the other gothic-styled buildings, only much larger in terms of expansion. The mansion was much like a beautifully crafted castle, something that appeared above and beyond anyone's imagination. Unlike many of the other buildings, the mansion was surrounded mostly of open grass, save from the nearby buildings that were probably produced during the recent fifty years.

Other than its magnificent beauty, I also couldn't help but notice crowds of cars and people flocking the mansion, as well as strips of ugly yellow caution tape.

Once again, my curiosity perked up. I tugged onto Luke's sleeve. "Hey, what's going on over there?" I asked, pointing to the commotion going on in that area.

Lucas squinted his eyes and then widen them, which had shown me that he knew what was going on. "Oh, yeah! That's a mansion that had belonged to an earl back in the late 1800's. I'm drawing a blank with the name at the moment, but I'll try to get us in that place for a tour."

Without much hesitation, Luke led my father and me toward the crowd. I had then come to realize that he was heading for a woman that stood by the door, who just happened to be the center of the small paparazzi's attention. "Mrs. Hughes!" Luke shouted, trying to get the woman's attention.

The woman referred to as Mrs. Hughes' gaze followed the voice calling her name. She flashed a grin that reflected from the camera lights when she saw Luke shoving through the crowd. "Lucas, darling, you certainly are a sight for sore eyes!" she greeted warmly, shuffling in her ivory stilettos and planting a kiss on his cheek with her swollen too-red lips.

Luke smiled meekly, stepping out of the way so that he could formally introduce my father and me despite the crowd. "This is Carl Davis, who works with me, and his daughter, Aubrey. Carl, Aubrey, this is Claudia Hughes."

Claudia Hughes was an older woman, probably a good ten or fifteen years older than my dad, stick thin, with protruding hip and collarbones and frail skin that was almost as white as the slim dress that wrapped tightly around her body. Her platinum blonde hair, short and frizzy, stuck out wildly on her little head. She had wide green eyes, which had given her a permanently surprised look.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, loves," she said with a smile. She waved her hand lazily in attempts to shoo away the paparazzi. Some had scattered away, but it really didn't help much.

"Whoo, it seems as though the camera can't get enough of you, Mrs. Hughes," Dad commented, attempting to dodge the flashes from the cameras to avoid being blinded by them.

Claudia let out a low chuckle. "It isn't something that necessarily bothers me," she explained rather passively. "At least, not as much as it used to. See, this mansion had belonged to my husband, who had recently passed away due to cardiac arrest. We luckily have children to pass this place onto for generations to come."

_Huh, funny. For someone whose husband had just recently died, she doesn't seem to be in the verge of tears when talking about it.... _I thought curiously.

"Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss," my father said in an apologetic manner.

"It's quite alright. Roger is certainly in a better place, now," Claudia sighed as she continued to lazily shoo away the paparazzi.

"So this mansion belongs to your family?" I asked, ultimately dismissing the subject over Mrs. Hughes' dead husband, eyeing every detail of the mansion like a deer caught in the headlights.

"What? Oh, no, no, dear. Well, not technically," Claudia replied. "My husband's family actually. He was--Oh, bother! I can't focus with all of these flashing lights and constant questions. Let's hurry inside the mansion, loves." At an instant, I felt a rough and bony hand clutch my wrist and tug my arm, ultimately throwing my body forward. I soon found myself heading towards the mansion entrance, being dragged by Claudia with both my father and Luke tailing behind through the blinding flashes and roaring crowd. The minute we were all assembled inside, Claudia immediately shut the door, ultimately leaving the paparazzi in a groaning rage.

Claudia placed her back against the door, letting out a heavy sigh in relief. "Whoo, bugger!" she exclaimed. "Now I can finally breathe again...." She groaned in aggravation and placed her hands haughtily on her hips. "Good grief! It never ends with those people! Always prying into other people's personal affairs for the sake of the tabloids!"

"You didn't seem frustrated with them earlier?" my dad pointed out.

"It gets rather annoying after a while. Trust me, love, being known for something isn't always glamorous," she explained, treating herself with a glass of wine that sat on the wooden counter beside the door.

"....So this place...?" I began, glancing every aspect of the mansion's interior in awe. Never in my seventeen years of my living this life had I ever stepped foot into a mansion, or anything remotely as aerodynamic and lovely. Everything from furniture to various paintings of people who are considered strangers to my world framed the main hall in an orderly manner. In front of us stood a long scale of wide and royal red carpeted stairs that led to the upper floor. A single goldenrod chandelier, dusty from aging, hung on the ceiling above the main hall, casting an angelic glow upon the hall and all that inhabited it.

A sheer sense of excitement lit up Claudia's pale white face. "Ah, yes!" she chirped, clutching onto the wine glass as she strode off through the main hall, which signaled Luke, my father, and me to follow her. "My husband, Roger Hughes, and I had lived in this mansion for years. He is dead now, and I can do nothing but live in this lonely place with the children while being bombarded by those dreaded paparazzi. They just do not know when to leave people alone."

"So this place is being taped off? For what reason?" I questioned aloud through the sounds of everyone's shoes pounding against the glossy wooden floors.

"Although my husband didn't possess the actual family name," Claudia continued, "he is one of the only few blood relatives of the family, who had originally ran this mansion, who now lives in England...London to be more precise. There are relatives who live very far away from here. Most live in other countries--_continents_ even. The original family was very known during the Victorian Era. Many people nowadays are still very familiar with the family, or at least have bits and pieces of knowledge of them. That is why people oftentimes try to sneak a peek of this mansion." She whirled her head back and gave Luke a wink. "And since Lucas has been a dear friend of mine for quite some time now, I'm more than happy to give you three a look."

"Oh, how interesting," Dad said in awe, gaping at the surroundings of the next room. "What's the name of the family?"

"Hargreaves," Claudia answered, not looking back at him. Hearing that name had sent multiple chills up and down my spine.

_Hargreaves_. That was the surname of the owner of the mansion. The name of the man who had possessed a diary that is being read over a hundred years into the future by a regular high school student, who in time is learning more and more about the diary's most disturbed secrets.

The name, Cain Hargreaves, the young earl of poisons.

I clutched onto my bag tightly, which held the diary. _Well this is just plain weird.... _I thought. _Hm...not sure if I should tell them about it or...?_

"To this day, we are unable to unravel the mysteries of the Hargreaves family and the sudden disappearance of the earl," Claudia added on, "not even Roger possessed much knowledge on them. Our oldest son Vincent is the only one who has really buried his head in books and such to obtain such information, but he's studying abroad in Scotland for his first semester in sophomore-year college at the moment. Our twins Julia and Simon are certainly not going to look into that whole mess since their whole mindset revolves around fun and games at their age."

We continued onward and it was nothing but hallway after hallway after hallway. The mansion was like a never-ending maze that just wouldn't cease to come to an end. Claudia continued to show off whatever furniture, painting, or personal possession that stood out in the rooms and filled us in with a little back-story behind them. Some of the tales were rather boring, and yet others had me interested. She didn't go into further detail about the Hargreaves family, which had me aching in wonder, yet it was perfectly reasonable for her not to, since she had no prior knowledge of the family.

There are times where I think to this day that even _I_ have held more knowledge than the woman married to a blood relative to the family. It was all thanks to the diary I have recovered from the library.

I soon found myself being segregating from the pack due to being mesmerized by the wondrous interior of the mansion. It hadn't bothered me much since I was going to meet up with them eventually. Plus, I wanted to take the time to explore the palace a bit on my own.

I started my way up the wide scale of stairs as soon as I found my way back to the main hall. I strode through the hallway on the top level, allowing my fingertips to lightly brush against the smooth surface of the railing. There were a good number of doors, which had me wonder if it was really necessary to have that many rooms.

At an instant, my ears picked up the faint sounds of a creaking door. I quickly faced the direction of the sound, only to find that nothing had changed prior to my hearing things. I shrugged as I continued my way, only to come to a halt once more.

"Why, hello, Miss Alice. What brings you here?"

A door to one of the many rooms flung opened and out came an adorable child around eight or nine years of age donned in an off-white party dress and black dress shoes. Her blonde hair, so pale that it seemed almost white, was tied in two pigtails, held together by two bright green bows, which complimented her also bright green eyes.

I was baffled by the sudden appearance of the small child, but for some reason, felt even moreso by the curious nickname she decided to give me. "Erm, my father, a friend of ours, and I were invited for a tour around the place by Mrs. Hughes," I replied. "And, um, what was it that you called me again?"

The large bright eyes of the child suddenly lit up at my answer. "Oh! So you know my mum!" she chirped excitedly, her sweet voice ringing like a bell. She clutched onto the ends of her dress and gave a little curtsey. "My name is Julia. Pleased to meet you, Miss Alice."

"It's Aubrey," I corrected, a small smile tugging the end of my lips. _Oh, wow. A child who actually has manners. And this is the 21st century, too._

"Okay, Aubrey. That's a pretty name. Different, too," she complimented, her pigtails bobbing uncontrollably by her nodding. "You just seemed a little lost, like Alice from that story _Wonderland_, hence your nickname."

"Oh, I see," I nodded, putting two and two together. "So, um," I continued, awkwardly shuffling my feet against the floor. I was never much for starting conversations with acquaintances, especially with children. "What are you doing sneaking around here?"

By then, I realized that I had asked a pretty silly question, since Julia lived in the mansion with her mother and brothers.

Of course, Julia didn't seem to feel the need to point out the obvious and smiled brightly. "Oh, I was having a tea party with my dolls and stuff animals in my room. That's why I'm all dressed up," she explained, looking down at her party dress. "Would you like to join us for tea?"

"Oh, I do enjoy tea, thank you, but I really should be heading back--"

"Hey, why the heck do you carry so many things, lady?" a young and curious voice asked from behind me. I turned my head, but saw no one, but then felt a tug on my bag. I looked down and found a young blonde child dressed in street wear digging through my belongings.

My mouth hung opened as I roughly tugged onto my bag to retrieve it. "H-hey!" I gasped, giving the child a stare of shock. "Didn't your mother ever teach you not to go through people's belongings without their permission?"

The boy stared back at me as he raised an eyebrow. He was an adorable child, blonde and green eyed, around the same age as little Julia. Though his nosiness seemed to overshadow his cuteness. "You're carrying a big bag, lady," he uttered, his stare remaining, "so of course, I'm going to wonder what you're carrying."

Julia scoffed as she placed her hands on her hips. She glared daggers at the boy. "Simon!" she scolded, glowering at him. "You apologize to Miss Aubrey right now!"

Simon stuck his tongue out in response. "You're only two minutes older than me. You can't tell me what to do." He then held up a small book, which looked too familiar. He opened it, skimming through the pages with a look of disgust on his face. "Ugh, too many words and no pictures," he gagged. "Booooooring!"

Taking a better look at the little book, I couldn't help but noticed that it looked suspiciously like the diary....I hastily rummaged through my bag to dig up said book, but found nothing. I took my eyes off my bag and scowled at Simon. "Give that back," I demanded.

As though he was ignoring me, Simon held the book to his face, scowling at it. At that moment, I was fighting the urge to shove his little face on the hard cover..... "Why? This piece of junk is boring anyway." He flipped through the pages again until he reached the bookmark I had placed in a specific spot. He cleared his throat. "'March 22nd, 1888. Meridiana is no more. Her life was stolen by Disraeli. She died protecting me....' Blah, blah, blah, angst, angst, angst...." He opened a drawer to a small wooden desk, threw the diary in it, and closed it. "A fitting place for a piece of boring junk."

Enraged, I hurried over to the desk through Julia's yelling. I opened the desk, but unintentionally pulled the drawer too roughly that it detached itself from the desk altogether. I uttered an "oops" in embarrassment as I crouched down and started to pick up the mess, when I suddenly found a peculiar rectangular piece of paper on the floor. Upon further inspection, it looked to me like a photograph facing down. "What's that?" Julia curiously asked as I gently held up the photograph. I flipped it over.

The image didn't contain color, which had me assuming that it was a very old photograph. It was a simple image that featured a fountain with a statue of an angel, and a small child, a little boy who couldn't have looked more than five years old, standing beside it. The clothes the boy was wearing were a tad peculiar: ankle boots, shorts, and an over-sized coat complimented with a large bow on the neckline. Dark full hair and wide eyes, the most angelic-looking and beautiful child I had ever seen.

"Huh? Where did _that_ come from?" Simon wondered in curiosity as he and his sister peered at the image with me. "I don't remember that being in there. And who's the kid?"

"It must have been stuck beneath the drawer without any of us realizing it," Julia assumed, tilting her head sideways. "And he can't be anyone we know. Probably someone who used to live here before us."

_Probably someone who used to live here before us. _Julia's assumptions was hinting at something, but I didn't feel the need to think further into it as I placed the photograph in the drawer and shoved it back into the desk where it was originally placed. I retrieved the diary from the ground and shoved it in my bag. I looked back at Simon and placed my index finger up. "Next time, Simon, have some manners and refrain from sticking your nose into other people's belongings. Understand?"

Simon crossed his arms over his chest. "Meh...." he muttered, refusing to look at me in the eyes.

I giggled a bit as I ruffled his hair, much to his displeasure. "Good boy," I said, standing up and heading towards the staircase. "I think I've done enough venturing around the upper level for now," I continued, taking a step down, "but I really must be heading back to find everyone else."

"Okay," Julia called, though I didn't look back. "It's nice to meet you--Look out!!"

"Huh!?" I merely glanced back for a moment until I felt something hard and solid beneath my right foot. I lost my balance and gripped onto the railing to prevent me from falling down the stairs. I was on my knees and I had sprained my wrist by twisting it the wrong way. "What the--!?" I took hold of a little plastic model of a race car that sat beside me with my good hand and slowly stood up and examined it. I twitched a bit. "I...I almost tripped...." I began, my voice taking an angered edge, "...over a plastic toy?"

"Simon! You need to pick up after yourself!" I heard Julia scold as I headed back up the stairs and handed Simon his toy car. Julia hurried over towards me. "Oh, no! Your wrist!" she cried as she saw me clutch onto my sprained wrist.

"It's alright, really. Just a sprain--Ow! Don't _touch _it!" I yelped, feeling the sharp pain as she touched it, which followed her mumbling a thousand apologies.

"You....should probably get that check as soon as possible," Simon suggested, staring at my wrist.

While still clutching onto my sprained wrist, I rested my lower back against the railing. "It's not so bad. I've had worse things happen to me--Whoop! Loose railing is loose," I commented quietly afterwards, quickly recovering from the loose railing, only to lean against it again, but providing less pressure onto it.

"But at _least _go to the emergency room or something!" Julia argued. It would seem that she wouldn't let it slide. She headed towards me and grabbed my arm. "Come on. Simon and I will walk you back to your dad." She gave her twin a glare. "_Won't _you, Simon?"

I gave a little laugh as I pulled my arm away, only to have her clutch onto it again. "It's fine, guys. Really."

"Stop being so stubborn!" Simon spoke up, stomping towards me and grabbing my arm with his sister.

"Guys, seriously, I'll be fine," I insisted, struggling to break free from their persistent grasps. I gasped as I felt the wobbling railing gradually detaching itself through the struggles. It seemed as though the children never even noticed since they didn't even think for a second to stop. "Okay, guys, you _really _need to stop before this thing--Ah!!"

It seemed as though time itself had ceased to allow the clocks to continue ticking when I heard a loud crack and felt nothing against my back except for the rush of air from fall through midair. I couldn't find my voice to scream out in fear, for my voice was trapped in my throat and fear was overcome by the paralysis in my body due to shock. I couldn't feel anything, nor could I even hear the cries of Julia calling my name. Although my vision was hazy, I could still picture the image of the specks of wood flying about from the now broken railing and the horror-stricken expressions of the children as they watched me fall.

That was the last image I saw before everything went from hazy to black.

And then...there was nothing....

* * *

I awoke several hours later dazed and confused. Staring at the ceiling and the neatly polished goldenrod chandelier, I decided to finally pull myself up into a sitting position without taking a second glance at my surroundings. A sharp pain tingled every nerve in my body, both from the fall and from my sprained wrist prior to the second unfortunate event.

I raised my good hand to the back of my head, where I felt pain, only to feel something wet and sticky lingering on my fingertips. Hesitantly, I pulled my hand to my face to examine what I had picked up. Wet, sticky, and scarlet red....

"Lovely," I grumbled, glancing down at the floor where my head was, only to find some more blood on the carpet. There wasn't a heavy quantity of it, but still a considerate amount to make one woozy at its sight. "I'm surprised I'm not even dead. I'll probably have a concussion though....Dammit...."

I finally took a chance to look at my surroundings. Something was certainly...off. The type of furniture and the location of their positions in the mansion was nowhere near similar to how it was previously. The paintings that Claudia and her late husband purchased and hung on the walls were nowhere to be found, and the area was more spacious due to the lack of unnecessary items that Claudia found "necessary". I threw my gaze over towards the broken railing. The only problem was...was that the railing wasn't broken at all. It looked stable, and it didn't look like it was even damaged at the very least.

Of course, seeing that freaked me out, since there was no way that could've been fixed in a matter of a few or so hours. I even thought for a moment that I wasn't even in the mansion, but then I second guessed myself, since everything looked the same....except...._not_. "Claudia?" I called. "Lucas? Dad?"

No reply.

Then, I heard voices. Unfamiliar voices, but voices, nonetheless. Following instinct, I hurried out the tall front doors of the mansion before anyone could find me, a bloodied stranger, and ran. It was raining. I didn't even pay any attention to where I was heading to. All I could do--_needed _to do--was run.

I eventually slipped on the slippery pavement and fell, my hands and knees catching my fall, no doubt causing more pain and also earning more cuts and bruises, along with splashes of muddy puddles. I pulled my gaze from the ground, only to find myself even more shocked than previously...

The little antique shops and restaurants that were once there were replaced with small bars and unfamiliar shops. The men, women, and children strolling along the cobblestone pavement were donned in fancy wear and long dresses of lace and silk, a type of fashion that was certainly uncommon for people in my days. The streets were no longer crowded with modern day cars, but rather, very old-fashioned automobiles, the kind that, in my knowledge, cease to exist anymore, along with chariots pulled by majestic horses.

I sat there, baffled, drenched, bloodied, and afraid...wondering if someone would kindly give me some sort of explanation, to come out and laughingly tell me it was all a joke....

For someone to look...and to save me....

**(A/N: YESSSSSSSS! Finally done with chapter 7! And the longest chapter yet! And again, I do apologize for the very long delay of the chapter release. Writer's block is evil, and it's actually been pretty recently that I've finally gotten some inspiration. About two days ago, actually. I've been working on this thing like a mad woman. Ha, ha. I've finally started school, so I should hopefully continue updating regularly without having such long delays...especially a year later. Sorry!**

**Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!)**

**-Twilight-to-Nightfall  
**


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